


Toxic

by EmeraldsAndAmethyst, WebbedUpKatanas



Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Arson, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Fire, Food, Gratuitous Smut, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Lies, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Smut, Supervillain AU, Torture, Villainy, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 81,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6660673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldsAndAmethyst/pseuds/EmeraldsAndAmethyst, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WebbedUpKatanas/pseuds/WebbedUpKatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started off as just another night in New York, New York.</p>
<p>Peter would have killed you if you'd have told him he'd be madly in love with his arch nemesis and terminal do gooder Nova by the end of the week.</p>
<p>Sam would have laughed in your face if you'd have told him he'd be dating that asshole villain Neurotoxin tomorrow.</p>
<p>It all started with just another night in New York, New York...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Neurotoxin: Misunderstood Hero or Dangerous Menace?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Baby, can't you see_  
>  _I'm calling_  
>  _A guy like you should wear a warning_  
>  _It's dangerous_  
>  _I'm falling_  
>  \- Toxic, Britney Spears

Neurotoxin made his way along the wall of the lab, smirking to himself at the useless security measures Horizon had in place. Honestly it was like they weren't even trying to keep him out anymore. It almost sucked the fun out of stealing hazardous materials and top secret tech. Almost... but not quite. 

He grinned behind his mask as he spotted something shiny and new. That _definitely_  hadn't been in here last time he broke in!

The many eyes of his mask gleamed in the passing stand by light of the lab's mass spec equipment.

 

* * *

 

Nova hovered over the industrial district, helmet scanning for any changes since his last pass. "Well, well, well, what's this?" he muttered to himself when his HUD popped up an opened window that should still be closed. He  flew lower, examining the open window for signs of forced entry.

"Neurotoxin!" Nova growled, spying the little spider themed alarm jammer. He looked in, scanning the ceiling. Nothing on visible, night vision or IR in this room. He floated slowly in, trying to keep his glow dim and stick close to the ceiling. Away from any nasty spider bombs, hopefully.

The door leading from the office was still open, he called up the supposed floor plan and kept it on his HUD as he slowly passed through the hall.

 

* * *

 

 

Neurotoxin pouted at the tech he was technically here to steal. It was poorly made, functionally flawed... basically useless. He could fix it up sure, but he might as well just make his own. Still, while he's here he might as well take it. And maybe make something explode. He liked making things go boom.

Gleefully he crawled back up onto the wall, creeping his way through the dark towards where he knew some very dangerous chemicals were stored. This was going to be fun.

 

* * *

 

 

Nova saw a door labeled "R&D" with many and varied signs for Earth hazardous chemicals and other fun lab hazards. The door was closed but it looked key carded and automatic. A rather different and out of place lock than on the rest of the doors in this hallway.

He reluctantly dropped as silently as he could to the floor so he could hack it.

 

 

The door opened and Nova slipped in, again trying to stay dim and high. The lab looked surprisingly untouched, had he been wrong?

He hesitated and  switched to IR. Trying not to startle when he realized how close that murdering spider was. He glowed white hot in infrared. Nova floated lower, getting ready.

  
He knew from past, painful experience he took too long to charge his blasts hot enough to do more than make the villain chatty from this distance. It was not going to be a fun fight.

 

* * *

 

 

A low insistent buzz of spider sense had warned Neuro of someone's approach, ruining his fun. But then again, the sight of the person who came through the door was most definitely enough to bring his spirits back up.

  
He couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the sight of Nova floating there, trying to glow dim enough to be subtle, like somehow Neurotoxin might miss him. How adorable. This was going to be more fun than the previously planned explosion.

 

"Hey there, firefly. What's a cute little bug like you doing in a place like this?" Neurotoxin said. Trying to hiss menacingly yet unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. There was no point in hiding. That stupid bucket of Nova's had probably pinpointed him in his crouch in the corner of the ceiling the second he'd floated into the room.

 

Nova darted towards him, fists at the ready.

 

"Don't you know spiders eat little bugs like you?" Neuro quipped.

 

Nova shuddered at that, not entirely sure he was joking. "You have to catch me first, bug breath!"

 

Neurotoxin darted to the side. Avoiding Nova's charge with a grin. Oh boy! His shoulder devil cackled gleefully. His pitiful should angel added something useless about responsibility. He flicked it away with a toss of his head. This was why Nova was so **fun**. He honestly enjoyed fighting with him more than most other heroes.  What could he say? He liked a hot head.

 

"Aww are we playing tag?" He shot a web towards Nova's helmet, not exactly trying to do anything other than toy with him a little. "You're it Sunshine! Come and get me!"

 

Nova twisted around to follow, glow bright now that he wasn't trying to hide. He grabbed the web line and yanked, aiming to pull the villain into his fist.

"Tag, freak! You're it!" Nova snarled as he connected. He moved to knee him, not noticing the web line was still stuck to his palm.

 

Getting punched by Nova had the nasty effect of actually hurting. Which sucked. Big time.

But a nice solid yank to his web line had the desired effect of jerking Nova forward, allowing Neurotoxin to get in a hard kick to his stomach. "You like to play rough huh? I like it," he laughed, popping his wrist spikes. "How's this for rough?" he lunged forward, trying to slash at him, aiming for the squishy bits.

The spider's hits were hard enough to crack bone, though he'd only bruised his guts with that knee. His suit's analgesics kicked in less than a second after the pain hit.

Nova twisted away from the deadly stinger. He did not need a repeat of whatever nasty venom he pumped him with the last two times he'd been too slow. He tried shaking away the web line but it stayed. That was new. 

"Go _skwark_ yourself!" Sam suggested. Then practically chatting added as he tried to shake off the extra sticky web, "You've been busy, when you change it up?"

He tried using his other hand but only succeeded in trapping himself further.

 

"I'm flattered! You noticed, oh wow. Careful you'll give a girl ideas, pointing out my new web fluid," Peter crooned. He used Nova's momentary helplessness to land a few more blows. Nothing deadly. Nova was too much fun to get rid of.

"Also _skwark_? What's that mean in moon language space boy? Don't worry about keeping it PG, our audience is  **supposed** to be legal," Neuro said cheerfully.

 

Nova grunted as Neurotoxin’s fists and feet connected. Both angry and relieved he wasn't using his full strength. He burned hot and bright, ablating the webbing. And hoping but not really expecting for the murdering creep to get burned, too.

"It means you're a mother _flark’ng_ freak that needs to _flark’ng_ stop!"

Nova kicked him and cocked his head. Double checking his HUD.

"Also there's no one here and I'm pretty sure you jammed the security so what the _flark_?"

Actual patrolling guards was something that was too expensive these days. It was all automated. Much cheaper on the medical and life insurance that way. With the added bonus that no grief wracked family or friends went to the Bugle when a drone got crushed.

 

Peter hissed under his breath at the sudden blast of heat emanating from Nova. He was pretty sure that was gonna leave a mark. The kick wasn't exactly a stroll in Central Park either if he was being honest. It felt like being hit by a freight train.

"Sticks and stones will break my bones, but those names made me frown real big under my mask. You can't see it, but ouch. That hurts me Twinkle Toes," he whined, taking mental stock of his injuries. He'd be fine, but this was starting to get tiresome, and clearly Nova was bringing his A game tonight.

"Yeah, it is. What say you come back with me?"

"I've got a real nice room waiting for you with your name on it and everything!" Nova taunted.  He went for a punch to Neuro's chest, hoping to nail him good enough for an elbow to the back of his head.

Neurotoxin just barely managed to dodge the punch, though Nova did manage to glance his fist off of his arm. Peter winced under his mask. Ouch. That little asshole! 

"Mmm you wanna take me to a nice room huh? You propositioning me?" he purred, taking the pain as quietly as possible. Wouldn't do to let the hero know he was hurting. "Well... you aren't my usual type, but you do have a nice enough ass..."

He grabbed at Nova's legs, trying to pull him forcibly to the ground. Maybe smash that pretty little helmet into the floor. See if he could dent it.

 

"Argh, just stay still you perv! _Flark_!"  Nova twisted and kicked, putting his energy against the force of Neurotoxin's throw. But his impossible grip was brusingly strong. 

 

If he'd been thrown to the floor he probably could have overcome the inertia. But as it happened a counter, filled with research equipment, was in between. As it was, expensive 'shatter proof' borosilicate equipment, counter top shards exploded outward. Sulfuric and hydrochloric acid ran everywhere.  Nova's vac suit engaged. His HUD flashed warnings on local atmospheric toxicity, it looked nasty. He was extremely glad he'd dodged that stinger earlier. He so did not need to be dissolved from the outside in right now.

 

Peter moved quickly, getting as far away from the spill as he could and climbing the wall to watch. He was torn between disappointment and excitement when Nova appeared to be just fine. Things would have been boring without him around.

“Heh. Aww Nova, you tripped acid. And look at what a mess you made," Neuro laughed, watching with interest. "Destruction of property is a crime you know."

His should angel cried pathetically as his devil sat, laughing, on top of it's back. Neurotoxin shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore them.

 

"It's funny how you know you're breaking the law but you keep doing it **anyways**!" Nova snarled, voice distorted a bit by his suit's external speakers. He blasted towards the wall crawler, aiming to tackle him into the nearest safety shower.

He succeeded in tackling him but his helmet was flashing toxic fumes on the level of the shower floor. _Das't_. If he takes him down there he'd seriously injure or even kill him. _Flark_. He did not want to be this close to the vicious spider. He went for a knee to his gut instead.

Neurotoxin grunted as Nova's knee connected. He tried slashing at him again, anything to get him off of him before he could do any worse damage.

 

Nova shuddered as the stinger connected to his kidney. Venom burned at his guts from the puncture, getting further inside his body with each beat of his heart. Blood ran down his side, under his suit. He looked up. 

He hated the lectures on collateral damage, but he hated the very idea of losing consciousness with this creepy crawly around even more. He blasted them through the roof and kept going, flaring bright but mostly heatless. A distress signal more than anything.  He heard Stark on his comm, but couldn’t parse his words. His mouth was already filled with cotton, tongue heavy and dry.

 

"Hey, hold on a sec, I didn't book this flight!" Peter squeaked, struggling in Nova's grip. He should be far weaker by now, definitely not able to fly still. Fuck.

Nova's helmet was blaring alarms in his mind and his HUD was flashing in his face. He slowed to a shaky hover, vision swimming.

  
The city was a sparkling jewel against the blackness below them.

 

"You fucking... take us down Sparky!" Neuro yelled, shaking Nova by the shoulders. He could easily break his hold at this point, and though he had the option of webbing, at this height it was more of a gamble than he really wanted to take. "Take us down or we both go splat!"

"Down... down, okay," Sam mumbled, glow cutting out. They dropped for long enough Neurotoxin thought they were both going to go splat. Then Nova's grip tightened and his glow covered them both. They slowed down, flaring bright again before Nova’s glow cut out entirely. Hi s face plate disengaged. He was sweating and shivering, eyes half open and glassy. They were falling much, much slower now though.

 

"Of course he won’t pass out on the ground, but in the air he's out like a fucking light," Peter grumbled to himself, shoving the pesky hero away to crash to the ground on his own. He twisted, shooting a web just in time to keep him from making an ungraceful landing.

  
Knowing Nova, backup was on it's way, but still... Peter couldn't stop himself from crawling down to get the last word in. It is kind of his thing, after all.

 

"Night night space prince," he sneered, hovering in close over Sam's face. "Enjoy the come down. Look forward to beating you again Sparky, really it's been a blast. Make sure you leave a review on Yelp."

Nova groaned incoherently at the sound of his cheerful gloating.  He patted his helmet and turned, leaving the prone hero lying in the street as he scaled the side of a building.


	2. Mithridatism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm waking up to ash and dust_  
>  _I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust_  
>  _I'm breathing in the chemicals_  
>  \- Radioactive, Imagine Dragons

Sam sat on a bench in Bryant Park unopened paper bag of tacos beside him. He was still literally benched for the rest of the day. Even though he'd been totally ready to patrol when he'd woken up after Neuro's little 'gift'. Banner still didn't trust his helmet's ability to heal the toxins, which was completely unfair. It wasn’t like he had any tech that worked against Neurotoxin’s nasty venom!

 

He poked at his bag of tacos. They were great fresh but he'd been **completely not sulking**  for way too long. Now they were cold.

 

They were, actually, the only good tacos in NYC. But he was still upset at his complete failure to apprehend Neurotoxin. **And**  he'd blown up the _das't_ facility while he’d been unconscious **anyways**.

 

At least that spared him a lecture on property damage.

 

Mostly because he'd been half dead, but that kind of thing happened far too often for it to phase him any longer.

 

Sam unwrapped his cold taco most sulkily.

 

* * *

 

Peter was practically skipping as he walked. Things were going well. The sun was shining, he'd just taken a few fantastic shots to sell to the tabloids, and oh yeah, he'd just beat the shit out of Nova the night before. Yeah. Life was good.

 

Wanting to review his photos, Peter glanced over at a nearby bench. It was taken, but the guy sitting there was pretty attractive in a kicked puppy sort of way. Plus if he played his cards right he bet he could walk away with some of those tacos.

  
Not bothering to ask if the space beside him was free, Peter plunked himself down. "Oh man, I swear I could kill for some tacos right now," he said by way of greeting. 'Hot bench man' jumped at the sudden invasion of his personal space.

 

"Uh, these tacos are no longer worth killing for, man. If you're that hungry you can have them, " he said. He started eating the taco in his hand as he offered him the bag. "Oh, by the way they're _lingua_."

 

Peter grinned. Well that was way easier than stealing them when the guy let his guard down. Less fun, but definitely easier.

 

"Wow really? Thanks man. Even soggy they sound delicious." He gave the other man a once over. Nice looking. Definitely not a Thor-like muscle god or anything but he was certainly fit. He shoved his glasses up his nose, acting a little bit shy as he reached for the bag.

 

"Sorry I was so starving I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Peter," he said as he gave him his best dorky photographer grin.

 

* * *

 

Well, Sam reflected. He probably wasn't going to get to totally not sulk or not brood in peace. And without his helmet he still felt a bit blah. He looked over at the Peter, he sounded like he was from the city, one of the boroughs probably. His glasses were completely nerdy, and his eyes way too blue. Like, seriously. Even his sleeveless shirt was nerdy, but his muscles definitely were not. And he had a nice smile.

 

"Eh, it's 'aight," Sam said, doing his best to look coolly aloof. But he hadn't tried to scoot away from the unexpected contact, "The name 's Sam."

 

He was warm where their legs touched. It was kind of nice.

 

"What brings you out here, besides the nice weather, I guess?"

 

This guy was cute, and he had nothing better to do. At least until Kae got out of school for the day. Might as well try and have fun.

 

"Mmmph," Peter said through his mouth full of taco. He shook the camera around his neck towards Sam as he rushed to swallow.

 

"I'm a photographer. I was just trying to get a few shots. So far it's been a good day, and it just keeps getting better," he said brightly. The contact between then wasn't lost on him, and he gently nudged his leg against Sam's.

 

"What about you? You seem like you've been here pouting at your tacos for a while now."

 

"I'm not pouting!" Sam said, a bit too loudly, then blushed and looked away, "Maybe a little bit pouting. Just some work drama, no big. You take pics like 'Humans of New York' stuff, or like flowers and _sch_ -, stuff?"

 

_Schlag_ was not really a word he could pass off as some kind of slang to someone his own age. Maybe he wouldn't notice the slip up.

 

"Pfft hey, no need to censor yourself around me. You can swear as much as your fucking heart desires," Peter laughed.

 

"But, oh, uh... it's actually more like Johnny Storm making out with someone in an alley kind of shit," he said, looking down. Pretending to be bashful about his work.

 

"It's a living," he shrugged, glancing up at Sam to read his face.

 

Sam laughed. Storm got himself into the most ridiculous Earth drama. "Yeah, it's a living. Though you shoulda been in town that day he brought his buggy alien 'friend' to Earth." Sam snickered at the memory of catching them making out on a rooftop.

 

"Poor Sue," Sam reflected.

 

Peter tilted his head, barely resisting the urge to narrow his eyes at that. Hmm. Interesting.

 

"Wait wait. You sound like you know the Storms personally," he said, keeping his voice as light and  friendly as it was inquisitive.

 

"Are you famous or something? Should I be whipping out my camera?" he joked.

 

Someone connected with the Fantastic Four would be an excellent person to make ties with. He'd already been half considering trying for a celebratory hook up after his streak of good luck, but this made things a thousand times more exciting. He leaned in closer, eager to hear more, putting less space between them than was strictly normal for strangers.

 

"Me? Famous, as if." Sam rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He really should learn to keep his mouth shut.

 

"No, no, no, I uh, I just study," _Think think think Alexander_ "I just study alien cultures!"

 

Which was a complete and total lie but one that was both impossible to prove and also easy to corroborate since he knew at least as much as the FF about all things Cosmic.

 

"I just got to know them through learning about all the wild shit out in space," Sam said, relaxing a bit. For someone dressed like a total nerd, Peter was coming on awfully strong. Maybe he was just awkward? Sam shifted uncomfortably, away a bit, but kept their legs touching.

 

“Really? Alien cultures huh? That's sounds pretty awesome! So like, have you ever met anyone from space before?" Peter asked, his smile friendly. Clearly in his excitement, he'd come on too strong if the way Sam moved away was anything to go by. Time to dial up the nerd a bit. He took a huge bite of his taco, letting some spill down his front and desperately trying to catch it with a distressed squeak before it hit the ground. "Ah shoot sorry. I'm kinda a mess. I'm totally listening though!"

 

Sam hid a smirk at Peter's awkwardness. Watching him eat out of the corner of his eye.

 

There was something off about Sam's answer about studying alien culture. Something Pete couldn't put his finger on. Either way though, anyone who could get him even a little closer to the Fantastic Four was worth getting his hooks into.

 

"Oh, yeah, I mean if space things are involved it's the good ol' Eff Eff." Sam said, but he couldn't help adding, "Or Nova. I know him too, you know. He's pretty cool. He's seen lots of cosmic stuff!

 

"The alien Storm brought back that one time was a, uh well, it's not really pronounceable by humans," Sam said, not a lie, really. He wasn’t sure if Johnny and himself counted in this case, what with their super powers, "But they weren't even really female, only that that species is sort of all female? Anyways aliens are really weird, and there are lots of them!"

 

He looked off into the blue sky. Aching for a moment with the need to get back out there. Angry that his teammates didn't trust him to asses his own abilities.

 

Peter shivered at the sudden rush of excitement Sam’s words sent through him.

 

Nova.

 

This perfect stranger off the street, a guy he could have easily walked right by, was a Bona Fide link to the biggest pain in his ass on Earth. In the galaxy. A real connection. A strand of a web fallen right into his lap. His shoulder devil rubbed his hands and whispered awful, terrible things in his ear. His shoulder angel tried to reason with him, that this Sam was an innocent researcher, guilty of nothing more than working with space things. He ignored it. It sat back down sadly, feathers molting.

 

“Huh so Johnny Storm is… what word would work here? Xenosexual? If only I’d gotten a picture of _that_ ,” he laughed. “But seriously wow! A guy who knows all about alien culture. How often do you run into someone like that on a park bench. That’s pretty amazing stuff.”

 

Peter smiled bright, letting his genuine excitement show.

 

“Plus you know superheroes! Like real life flying, glowy guys, That’s so cool! Johnny Storm _and_ Nova! Two of my biggest hero crushes!”

 

More like the two biggest heroes he’d like **to crush**. He imagined them webbed up and pleading for mercy as he stacked heavier and heavier things on them. Crushing them into sad, gooey, super paste under a preposterously tall stack of assorted cars, trucks, trains, rocks, and buildings.

 

But sweet, innocent, space-loving Sam didn’t need to know that. Peter shook the mental image out of his head.

 

Sam grinned. Excited to have found a fan. Though, of course, he couldn’t really tell him that.

 

“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet! And I think just pan is what they prefer,” Sam said.

 

“Yeah, man Storm just can’t stop getting into trouble. I dunno why he can’t keep that stuff in space but,” Sam shrugged. Then changed the subject to something a bit less uncomfortable.

 

“Flying is so awesome! Looks so awesome!” Sam stumbled, _schlag_ , he really should learn to keep his mouth shut. Really, really, **really**. “They look so free up there, and Nova can actually fly **in**  space! Johnny, you know, the fire lets him fly so no atmo, no fire.”

 

“Oh man, can you imagine how amazing flying would be?” Peter said, sounding wistful. In reality he knew it was **awful**. Too many assholes had grabbed him and tried to fly him high enough to get the upper hand for him to care much for the experience. It was nothing like web-slinging.

 

Now _that_ was fun. The pull and flex of his muscles, that one exhilarating moment of being in freefall before he slung another web. God, it made him itch to be swinging just thinking about it. Maybe he’d go out again tonight and wreak some havoc.

 

“Flying in _space_ no less!” He stuffed the last of his taco in his mouth, staring dreamily up at the sky.

 

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, sighing wistfully. Stupid Banner and the stupid Avengers. Keeping him grounded here on Earth, of all the… well not that bad of a planet. Really. After a moment or two of silence he realized he should probably say something instead of stare off into the sky like an idiot.

 

“So, you take pics for fun and profit, or just profit?” Sam said, turning back to Peter and resting a bit more casually on the bench. “What do you like to do for fun, I guess is what I mean?”

 

“Oh uh, well you know… I take pictures for fun too yeah. I dabble in a lot of different kinds of photography. And I’m really into working out too. I used to be kinda a scrawny nerd, so I figured might as well be a muscled nerd instead,” Peter laughed.  

 

He’d forgotten how **fun** it was to play this game. Pretending to be innocent, dorky, little Peter Parker and nothing else. Taking someone along for the ride. The best part was he didn’t even have to lie that much about the dorkier aspects of his life. It made the bigger lies that much sweeter to tell.

 

“But uh… oh man, promise you won’t make fun of me?” he asked, ducking his head and pretending to be a tad bashful. Sam leaned into him, trying to project comfort and trust.

 

“Yeah, hey. I might be an asshole but I’m not mean about it,” Sam laughed, jokingly.

 

“Good on you working out. It can be pretty fun! I do yoga and cardio mostly,” Sam added, belatedly remembering he should probably acknowledge his other comments. Sam had always been a sucker for gossip.

 

“I can tell,” Peter muttered under his breath, giving Sam a once over.

 

“But uh, anyways!” he added too loudly, a perfect impression of a nerd getting caught checking out the jock.

 

“For fun I, um… I’m really into science. Mostly biophysics! A bit of chemistry too, but yeah. I mean I never went to college but I always figured I would have gone into it. Mostly I just dabble and read papers and stuff.”

 

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, projecting embarrassment but inwardly grinning. Sam was cute. Adorably trusting too. And he hadn’t been lying with his obvious ogling… he definitely wasn’t too hard on the eyes.

 

“Wow that sounds really lame when I say it out loud doesn’t it?” Peter chuckled, just the slightest bit self-deprecating.

 

Sam grinned. Peter was way too cute. And muscled. And he’d definitely, definitely been checking him out. It was so annoying how much harder to tell with human guys than aliens it actually was. But Sam wasn’t **that**  dense.

 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being a total nerd! Someone’s gotta do it,” Sam said, casually stretching his arm out across the back of the bench. “And college is _fl_ -fucking expensive, who the fuck can afford that shit? I mean, I got my GED and here I am studying aliens with supers!”

 

“Hah, thanks, that makes me feel better,” Peter laughed, figuring it was safe enough to nudge Sam gently with his arm. “True though, college is ridiculous.  I never could have afforded it and there was no one to help me out. So sleazy tabloid photographer it is.”

 

Peter shrugged, “At least researching aliens and meeting supers is awesome! I’d say you’ve done pretty well for yourself.”

 

“Yeah! Thanks!” Sam said, pleased as punch. No snide digs about a Good Enough Degree or anything. Peter was something else. Smart but not rubbing it in his face. He felt a little flutter in his stomach at how friendly he was being. They probably had time for… no. He couldn’t show up sweaty and smelling like back alley sex for ‘Big Brother Time’ with Kaelynn. She’d never let him live it down.

 

Sam’s stomach growled. He blushed, and laughed. “Ah, _da_ -damn I guess I should have spent more time eating and less time sulking.”

 

“Oh man, I’m sorry, that’s kinda my bad. I ate your other taco,” Peter said ruefully.

 

“I guess I owe you one. I could you know… maybe get you some more now?” Peter glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, feigning nervousness.

 

Sam was about to protest when his stomach growled again. He rubbed the back of his head, letting his arm brush against Peter as he moved it, “Ah, I was gonna do the whole ‘no really you don’t have to’ thing but actually I’m _fl_ -fucking starving.

 

“But Samantha’s Tacos Truck is gone now, we’ll have to get something else. That’s the only good taco joint in this crazy city. Only good, REAL, tacos, I mean,” Sam said, trying to smile apologetically for imposing on a total stranger like this.

 

Peter smirked.

 

“Oh so you’re an alien culture expert _and_ a food critic now?” He laughed. “And hey, I’m glad you said yes. I was kinda hoping you would.” He stood, brushing off his thighs and ass, mostly to draw attention to them, but also because benches in NY were dirty as hell. “Anything you want. My treat. It’s the least I can do for stealing your taco and being all awkward at you.”

 

Sam licked his lips, eyes drawn to Peter’s amazing ass. He couldn’t stop himself from saying, all cocky like, “Anything?”

 

Peter blinked, then turned his head away, ostensibly to hide a blush. Really it was the smirk he was trying to hide, but either way, he was pretty sure Sam was completely buying the act.

 

Sam stood up. Shorter than Peter, of course. He was shorter than everyone. The height thing was pretty much a dealbreaker with humans. He squashed down the disappointment and shrugged.

 

“Anyways, we can’t get too far away, I’m meeting my sis at the Library in a few hours. You know what’s good around here?”

 

Sam was shorter than Peter’d expected, but no less attractive for it. In fact, it just added to the impression Peter had of him as being absolutely adorable.

 

“Yeah. Anything you want. I gotta make it up to you somehow don’t I?” he said, playing coy. “Uhh… there’s a really great Japanese place nearby. We could head there? They’re fast if you only have a few hours, and the food is fantastic.”

 

Sam tried to hide his surprise. Japanese was expensive, especially in New York. And in Midtown. **Yikes**. Selling sleazy pics must make more money than he’d realized. He almost objected on principle. But, well, Peter had offered. Maybe his height wasn’t a deal breaker for him?

 

“Yeah? Japanese sounds great, Big Shot! Lead the way,” Sam said, grinning.

  
“Awesome!” Peter said happily.

 

He wondered if Sam was the type who might go for a quick hook up in a restaurant bathroom. While it was possible, Peter needed him as more than just a quick fuck now. This was a perfect chance to get close to the hero community, there was no way he was going to throw it all away.

 

Slow burn it was. Peter _had_ always liked watching things burn slowly. In his mind, Neurotoxin stood, laughing, over the smoldering remains of the Baxter Building as Avengers Tower burned in the distance.


	3. Here now is the male red back spider, bringing a tasty snack to his potential mate. Ideally convincing them that he himself is not for dinner.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, “Dear friend what can I do,_   
>  _To prove the warm affection I 've always felt for you?_   
>  _I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;_   
>  _I'm sure you're very welcome — will you please to take a slice?”_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “kind Sir, that cannot be,_  
>  _I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!”_
> 
>  
> 
> \- The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Food (oops sorry I forgot to put this up when the chapter went up - Em)

“Oh hey, so I just realized I never asked, what do you do for a living? You said you had some work drama right?” Peter let his hand brush against Sam’s casually, just for a moment, and looked at him with wide blue eyes, waiting for his answer. Sam's stomach fluttered a bit at the hand brushing, couldn’t be accidental. Sam let his hand brush against Peter’s in return.

 

“Oh, um, yeah,” Sam fumbled, thinking fast.

 

“It’s, it’s kinda confidential stuff. I don’t know if it sounds better or worse to say I got in a major league fight yesterday. But, it’s kinda a thing that happens at my job. Sort of part of my job, really, so it isn’t like, ugh,” Sam brushed his hand against Peter’s again as he raised it to run his hand through his hair.

 

“This just makes me sound like some kind of adrenaline junky or something. But seriously it’s just, I kinda didn’t do as well as I’d wanted and I’m mad about it,” Sam said as they walked.

 

Peter side eyed Sam, growing more interested by the second. Just who exactly did he happen to bump into? Could he be a SHIELD agent maybe? Possibly a cop… or something along those lines. Or… oh fuck wouldn’t it be just **perfect** if he was some kind of hero along with Nova and The Human Torch? The thought of it makes him feel almost giddy as he quickly considers about a dozen possible major and minor heroes who fit Sam’s general body type.

 

Either way he has a feeling this was definitely going to keep getting better and better.

 

“That sounds rough,” Peter said sympathetically. “I mean… I _am_ a little worried I’m taking some sort of hit man or something to dinner now, but it really does sound like a much harder day than I thought. I figured you were just gonna say you got in a fight with your boss or something!”

 

“Oh! Oh man! Thor no!” Sam waved his hands in distress, green eyes wide. “I’m no Task Master! I can tell you that much!”

 

“Heh, well I figured that much,” Peter laughed, leaning his arm against Sam’s in a friendly, affectionate way. “But okay, I guess I’ll trust you not to suddenly kill someone to death with chopsticks while we eat.”

 

Sam snorted at Peter’s phrasing. He relaxed into Peter’s arm, relishing his warmth. He was always so _das’t_ cold without his helmet on.

 

“I will do my best to hold back my savage inner beast and use chopsticks like a civilized human,” Sam snarked, sarcastic to the bone. He hadn’t had good Earth sushi in way too long. Well, too long without it being some kind of formal Avengers gala crap where he had to put up with being on his best behavior as an ‘ambassador of the galaxy’. Ugh. So _das't_  frustrating.

 

Peter laughed. A genuine laugh at Sam’s snark. It’d been a long time since he’d had someone this fun to talk to, actually. Most villains weren’t exactly known for their sparkling wit. Or worse, were just downright creeps like Ock or Goblin. Talk about your **obsessions**. Used to be he could barely turn around without one of them trying to get a hold of his bodily fluids or attempting to convince him to join in their evil plots.

 

Used to be.

 

Until he’d taken care of them of course. Internally he grinned savagely at the memories of their deaths. Externally he remained the nerdy, harmless Peter Parker.

 

The people he worked with weren’t much better. A bunch of sleazy douchebags who he wouldn’t mind taking out honestly, if it was worth the effort. Well, except for Flash. He was so eager to please. Really, Flash was his only friend now. He'd been so lost after his father had died. How tragic it had been, the abusive fucker burning up in his own gas station. What a loss.

 

“So what kind of Japanese food do you like, Big Shot?” Sam asked, bumping hips as they walked.

 

“Oh you know, I like pretty much any food I can get my hands on, as long as it’s not _too_ spicy,” Peter said, grinning at Sam. “I have a pretty big appetite despite being a beanpole. I’m just a growing boy I guess.”

 

Peter stopped, nodding towards the door of the restaurant. 

 

"This is the place by the way,” he said, opening the door and letting Sam go first. Call him paranoid but he always liked having someone else enter a room ahead of him. He’d learned from past, unpleasant experience. Sam smiled his thanks and stepped inside, scanning the environment on reflex.

 

“Thanks, Peter. You really know how to treat a guy like a lady,” he was joking but also flattered, most New Yorkers never would even think about opening the door for someone. Or maybe that was most New Yorkers he knew. Okay no scratch that, Rand and Rogers would and did and do hold open doors. Banner too, and, he was rambling to himself to distract himself from how swank this place was. Great.

 

“Oh, man, Chef Broussard trained under the best. I didn’t know you meant this place!” Sam was impressed, he’d heard about this place but hadn’t had a chance to try it. Stark was always too eager to show off by hiring Iron Chefs, which was good food, don't get him wrong. But **this** chef had been trained under Iron Chef Moritomo’s master.

 

Sam hesitated, this place was really, really expensive.

 

“You, uh, you’re sure this is cool? Cause we can go grab some Five Guys or something instead, en bee dee…” Sam trailed off. He didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth but, damn, was this a hookup? Because this was looking like a hookup. He really did not have time for that right now.

 

“Really? Five Guys? You seem like waaaay too much of a foodie to be satisfied with that,” Peter laughed.

 

“Dude, seriously don’t worry about it. I feel bad for the taco thing, and I’ve been craving Japanese anyways, having you here is like a nice bonus. Who doesn’t like company,” he reassured Sam. “Plus I wasn’t lying about the whole Johnny Storm in an alley pics thing. I’m about to make a bunch of cash so I really don’t mind the cost.”

 

Peter paused, pretending to be nervous, “I mean, unless you aren’t uh… feeling it? I mean if you don’t want to eat that’s totally fine! I just… yeah.” He shrugged awkwardly.

 

Sam relaxed at that, self imposed obligation met.

 

“Okay well, just checking!” Sam licked his lips as he thought about all of the amazing and delicious foods he was about to try. Nice small portions in the Japanese style, given a modern twist, if he recalled correctly. He turned to Peter and grinned.

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you! And you pegged me right, I love good food,” and what he didn’t say was how he appreciated it due to fast paced, insanity inducing weeks with only his suit’s rations and warm filtered piss-water to survive. Not really a kosher topic of conversation on a maybe hookup. He pushed the memories away, instead wondering what fish was fresh today. Thinking of sushi led his mind, for reasons he didn’t bother to try and figure out, to eating it off of Peter’s naked body. He licked his lips at the mental image.

 

“I consider myself thoroughly warned,” Peter responded with a smile, letting himself be seated. He leaned forward in his seat, looking at Sam through his lashes.

 

“I’m glad my food choices impress you. I’m really looking forward to filling you up,” he said, his voice sweet. He flashed Sam a smile all wide eyed and coquettish. 

 

“So, you see anything you like?” Peter said, teasingly feigning innocence as he checked out the menu.

 

Sam most definitely saw something he liked. He licked his lips, Peter couldn’t have said that without knowing what he was implying. Sam shifted in his seat, glancing at the menu.

 

“Mmm, I’m looking forward to finally being full,” Sam said, feigning innocence himself as he reviewed the menu.

 

“Sashimi for sure, oh, and takoyaki! Have you had takoyaki before? It’s total street food but it’s just the best. I gotta see how Chef Broussard classed it up!”

 

Peter barely held back a sharp, hungry grin. Clearly there’s interest on Sam's side too. Screw testing the waters, it was time to jump right in. His should devil cheered him on with wolf whistles and crude gestures, his angel sitting down and drawing innocent little pictures of him and Sam holding hands. 

 

“Oh are those the octopus balls? I appreciate a guy who likes balls in his mouth,” Peter laughed, hoping to catch Sam off guard. 

 

Sam laughed and lowered his menu. “Dude, I know I’m awesome but I seriously can **not**  take my **little sister**  to the library smelling like sex.”

 

“That’s fair,” Peter said, ducking his head and smiling. “I was more sort of testing a hypothesis anyways. Not that I don’t want to uh, you know, hook up with you. Because I do. Definitely. But I just… dinner is good. And maybe we could I dunno, do a raincheck on the sex? Maybe go out again for dinner sometime when you don’t have a sibling outing to the library planned?”

 

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, aiming for awkward and adorable. Sam smirked, and raised the menu back up. Hot nerd wanting a second date already? And definite orgasms? He tried not to let it get to his head.

 

“Testing a hypothesis?” Sam asked, snarking but not mocking. It was kind of adorable how bad he wanted him, “Well, you’ve kinda shot yourself in the foot here with date night standards you know, Big Shot.”

 

Sam set the menu down, decision made. “Yeah, I’d like that. Some time we’ve both got a while free. Also I think we should have the chef’s sashimi and the yakitori. Unless you’re really hungry, then we can just order one of everything and share.”

 

“Awesome. And yeah, one of everything sounds good. I figure next time we go out it’ll be _your_ turn to pay,” Peter grinned, nudging Sam with his foot under the table. “I’m looking forward to it.”

 

“It'll be my pleasure, Big Shot," Sam said, grinning and nudging Peter back. 

 

That was easier than Peter expected. Honestly, it was such a rush to do this. Nerdy, high school Peter would be so proud. Or maybe horrified. He just couldn’t tell anymore. High school before the spider bite seemed like it was a million years ago. He could barely remember what being that naive and stupid had been like. He slid the menu away from himself, keeping his eyes on Sam and biting his lip.

 

“Octopus is my favorite by the way. Especially fried, so you might have to fight me for it,” Peter tried not to smirk at the memory of Ock going down, fried crispy in a not so accidental explosion. That had been a good one. His underwater lair had slagged and glassed the Hudson’s mucky bottom for over a hundred meters out.

  
Sam laughed at Peter's teasing, "So fried octopus is a yes. Any other favorite foods?”

 

Sam was already thinking up ways to fry octopus without getting it inedibly chewy. Peter was nearly too much. He could barely wait to show this dork that being full did not mean being meek.

 

"I surrender in advance. Far be it from me to take away a man's favorite food," Sam said, smiling.

 

"Hmm, very suspicious about that surrender there, foodie," Peter said, squinting at him and pretending to be suspicious of his motives. He glanced around the restaurant, for such a swank place it was a bit unusual that their waitstaff hadn't arrived yet. "Wonder where our waiter is?"

 

“Maybe they'll come when your mouth is full,” Sam teased with a grin.

 

Peter laughed, surprised to find he was actually, genuinely, enjoying himself. Dangerous. Very dangerous for a villain like himself. But for the moment he decided to silence the alarm bells, and those pesky shoulder chibis while he was at it.

 

“Will they now? Guess it’s lucky I’m good at swallowing then huh?” He gave Sam his cheesiest wink. He moved his leg under the table, pressing his knee firmly against Sam’s. “I’m really into sausage actually,” he purred, before dissolving into giggles. It wasn’t even a lie either. He had a terrible diet, always too busy avoiding supers and causing trouble to feed himself well.

 

Sam laughed with him, pressing back against him. Then brushed their ankles together. _I can’t believe we’re playing footsie_ , he thought to himself, barely containing his snark. It was funny, but also fun. He wasn’t sure if Peter would stop if he called him out. Probably not, but. But it was really, really nice being with a human guy that wasn’t paranoid about running into someone he knew. No need to draw his attention to it.

 

“Guess so, Big Shot,” Sam purred back. Only to be interrupted by their waitress.

 

“I’m Linda, I’ll be your server tonight," she said, turning their glasses up and pouring iced water into them, "The special is the grilled yellowtail collar. And I’m terribly sorry for the delay, can I get you gentlemen anything from the bar?”

 

Peter poked at Sam with his foot as the waitress spoke, biting back a smile.

 

“Just water for me. Though I think we’re ready to order?” Peter directed the question to Sam.

 

“Water is good. And yes! We’re ready,” Sam poked him right back, smiling brightly, “One of everything!”

 

“One of everything, excellent. I’ll be right back with your drinks,” Linda said cheerfully. As soon as she was gone Peter leaned forward.

 

“So, you’re going to meet up with your younger sister? How old is she?” Peter didn’t particularly care, but it wasn’t like he could just jump directly to 'so how well do you know Nova and Johnny and also do they have any crippling weaknesses they don't want wicked supervillains to know about' now could he? Besides, Sam was actually attractive **and** funny and so far, not a douche. He might as well enjoy spending time with the cute boy while he could. Between winning his battle against Nova the night before, the pictures he’d just snapped and meeting Sam, he honestly couldn’t believe how lucky he’d been the past day or so.

 

“Oh gods, she’s thirteen.” Sam rolled his eyes and groaned dramatically.

 

“Everything is superheroes this and pop bands that and ‘when can I meet the aliens that hate Nova’ and-” Sam sighed over the top dramatic again. Then gave a genuine pleased smile, “At least she doesn’t put up with any _sch_ -shit from anyone.”

 

Sam was very proud of how much sense Kae seemed to posses. Heimdall knew it was more than he’d had at thirteen, that’s for sure.

 

“We’re going to the swank library instead of just using ebooks because they have an exhibit on some nerd art she’s major into right now. Some, uh,” Sam took a drink of his water, “Some electro something pictures of little critters?”

 

“I somehow know what you’re talking about, despite the fact that you got exactly **none** of that right,” Peter said, shaking his head faux sadly.

 

“If you mean the _Electron Microscopy|Structures_ exhibit then she’s going to love it! I’ve been a few times. It was pretty fun,” he told him. It **had** been fun, actually. He’d spent a few hours each time just wandering, looking at everything. Some of the images had been really fantastic. He had to admit Sam’s sister sounded great. Especially the part about wanting to meet beings who hated Nova. Speaking of which…

 

“So wait… hold on, rewind a tic. Your sister is into science, pop bands, and hating on the officially rated cutest hero in N-Y? I’m not seeing the connection.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes playfully at that.

 

“Yeah, tell me about it. I got all the awesome genes and she got the nerdy ones,” Sam shrugged. He also couldn’t say ‘oh yeah, she doesn’t think Nova’s hot because he’s her brother. **Gross** ’.

 

“Yeah, well, she thinks Hulk and,” Sam sighed, “The Agents of SMASH are really cool. At least she isn’t crushing on Storm.”

 

“Yeah okay, so she has a few sliiight errors in judgement,” Peter admitted. He’d been smashed too many times by the Agents of SMASH to even pretend to play along. They were all definitely on his List. “But at least she seems to like science! And hey, what’s wrong with Johnny Storm? You don’t think he’s dreamy?”

 

Peter fluttered his eyelashes at that, feigning infatuation.

 

“Really?” Sam quirked his eyebrow and tilted his head, “I don’t think he’s dreamy enough to have pictures of his hand in my pants all over the tabloids.”

 

Sam nodded at Peter’s camera. Clearly amused.

 

“Touche,” Peter smirked, then teased, “Are the two of you close enough you could put your hand down his pants? Don’t tell me I’ve been lusting over a taken man this whole time."

 

“Like Storm needs more than proximity, but no. We aren’t banging,” Sam said. Then the sashimi platter arrived. Plated as gorgeously simple as Sam had expected from a student of a classical master. The fresh fish the star of the show. This seemed to not have any 'modern' takes. Other than the plate itself being rather dramatic.

 

“This looks amazing,” Sam said. swallowing as he picked up the lacquered chopsticks. He reached for the yellowtail.

 

“You’ve got to taste the salmon, it’s like buttery umami goodness! Just look at it!” Sam said before he bit into his slice of fish. He made utterly indecent noises of happiness as he ate it, closing his eyes in bliss.

 

Peter watched Sam’s face, suddenly imagining that blissed out look in a very different context. He could practically see the other man underneath him. Pinned to the bed, his nails scratching down Peter’s back, hard. He’d be slick with sweat and moaning and-

 

“Mmm yeah, looks delicious,” he said absently, eyes still focused in on Sam’s lips. He grabbed up his chopsticks and took the salmon, making sure to make his own indecent noises in turn. “Fuck, yeah that really is amazing.”

 

Peter slid his knee between Sam’s, watching him eat in a mixture of amusement and desire. “You really like this huh? I gotta say, I’m pretty glad I brought you here.”

 

“Mmmm,” Sam agreed. Eyes still closed as he savored the fresh, salty, umami almost but not quite sweet meat. He swallowed almost regretfully and opened his eyes again. “I’m definitely, super glad you brought me here. This is top notch.”

 

Sam poke the uni, tongue sticking out. “You get that one, it’s kinda, ugh, tastes like the bottom of the sea.”

 

Sam snatched up the super white tuna before Peter could make a decision on which bit of raw seafood was next. He refrained from blowing a raspberry, but only because he might actually cry if he got himself kicked out before tasting everything.

 

“So sweet of you, thanks Sam. Sheesh. You buy a guy food and he gives you the scraps that taste like a mermaid’s ass,” Peter shook his head mournfully. He ate it anyways though, not actually minding the taste. He sat patiently as Sam finished chewing, a spider waiting for his prey to come to him. Then just as his dinner companion moved to get the next slice he struck. Swiping it before Sam could get it and popping it gleefully into his mouth. He grinned, smug as hell as he chewed, groaning sinfully around his mouthful.

 

Sam made indignant noises at the blatant food theft. He took the final piece from the platter with a glare. It really was more of a pout, despite his best efforts.

 

“Fucking rude, swiping a starving man’s meal right out from under his chopsticks,” Sam sulked, before eating the final slice of fish. Peter may have gotten the bluefin belly, but the Japanese mackerel was fresh and good. He hummed happily, eyes drifting half shut as he chewed.

 

“I know, I know, I'm downright evil,” Peter conceded, smirking. “Just the absolute worst.”

 

Peter smiled, thanking Linda as she brought the next dish. There was a selection of meats, all presented on real sugarcane skewers, and Peter could already feel his mouth watering. He really should eat at places like this more often. After all, what was the point of stealing money if he didn't use it for his own pleasure as well? His shoulder angel's chiding went ignored.

 

Sam nodded his thanks, swallowing his bite as she left. Then turned back to Peter, “Oh, yeah. **Totally**. ‘Cause supervillains buy fancy dinners for random guys after eating their tacos like, allllll the time.”

 

Sam picked up the grilled hearts and rolled his eyes. “Watch out everyone, it’s Supper Time. He’s going to ruin your life by feeding you amazing food. Diabolical.”

 

Peter’s laughter was bright and loud. If only Sam knew.

 

“Drat!” He cried out, reaching for his own food. “My sinister plans foiled again by Hot Bench Man! Curse you!!!”

 

He grinned as he took a bite of heart. This was far too much fun.

 

Sam interrupted his contented eating to give him a completely not amused look. He swallowed his mouthful of food.

 

"Hot Bench Man? Really? That’s the best you could come up with? Come on, I’m like, clearly more of a, like, Guapo Taco-dor, or Master Foodie!” Sam said, before the delicious food overcame his urge to snark and he took another bite, sweet sugarcane juice running down his chin. Peter giggled at the messy eating.

 

“Ah, _fl_ -fuck,” Sam mumbled around his mouthful of food.

 

“Oh, because Supper Time is the coolest villain name in the world,” Peter said as he rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe this snark. And after I bought Guapo Taco-dor a fancy meal and everything.

 

"Heroes these days,” he added, shaking his head sadly. Peter was curious. Sam seemed to stutter every time he swore, but there was something strange about the way he did it. It seemed less like a speech impediment and more like he was… catching himself maybe? There was definitely something off about it.

 

“Looks like you need a napkin Taco-dor,” he cackled. Sam was legitimately ridiculous and adorable. It didn’t seem like an act, not like what Peter was doing at all. He shook his head and took pity, handing Sam a napkin. It wasn’t a good idea to let himself feel actual fondness for this stranger. He had to keep himself in check.

 

Sam took the offered napkin and wiped himself off. This grilled duck heart was perfect, delicious, but he hadn’t had this much fun with a date in way too long. He savored the taste for a moment longer before swallowing.

 

“My hero,” Sam snarked, returning the cloth napkin, “What a plot twist.”

 

He laughed as he finished the last heart, ready for the sugarcane this time.

“Mmm well I like to surprise,” Peter said fondly. Imagining just **how** surprised this poor, sweet guy would be to find out he really **was** eating with a notorious villain. The thought sent a little thrill through him. Imagining Sam's shock and fear, his sudden realization of how totally helpless he was. And if he really was friends with Nova and the Human Torch…

 

“You look like **you’re** having a good time,” he said, eyeing the sugarcane in Sam’s hand with a smirk. 

 

Sam made eye contact as he pulled the skewer out of mouth, lips wrapped around it rather more obscenely that strictly necessary. Sam closed his eyes and allowed himself the chance to savor this bite. Intent on not letting cute nerds distract him. **This** time. Peter licked his lips, watching Sam. If just eating made him look this blissed out he could just imagine what he looked like when he was getting fucked. He did some quick recalculation in his mind, considering his options. He’d been planning on taunting Nova tonight, destroying useless bits of the city just for the fun of it. Riling the super powered do gooder up while he was off licking his wounds from their last battle. Nova with his damn impossible recovery from his venom. Stupid fucking helmet giving him unfair resistances. He hoped the asshole was in pain, wherever he was. But spending the night with Sam instead... 

 

This could be a far better, and potentially more **pleasurable** use of his time.

 

“So, uh, not to come on too strong, or anything, but… you wouldn’t happen to have plans **after** your sibling bonding time would you?” Peter asked, chomping on his sugarcane before sucking on it in a way that was definitely designed to steal Sam’s attention away from his food.

 

Sam hummed thoughtfully as he chewed. He opened his eyes and was greeted to the very nice sight of nerdy Peter damn near sucking off his skewer. _Das’t_ , that was hot. He swallowed.

 

“I have work tonight, unfortunately. Playing hookie really isn’t allowed, like at all, sad to say. But my schedule is a bit weird,” because he still kept thirtish hour days to make the ‘space lag’ less tedious, but, “We can do breakfast after, if you’re up that early.

  
“I’ll even cook for you, I’ve got some spices that are out of this world,” Sam waggled his eyebrows at that. He set his used skewer on his plate. And grabbed a fresh skewer of goose liver slices, taking another bite. He moaned at the perfectly cooked classed up street food.

 

“Oh my god,” Peter grinned, knocking Sam's leg with his own. “You big alien loving nerd. I see you there trying to match my stellar pun skills.”

 

Ah well, as much as he’d wanted to work on this lead at least Sam being busy gave him time to get up to shenanigans tonight. Maybe he could even make it productive, too.

 

“But, yeah. **Normally** I don't accept an invitation home with a guy on the first date, but breakfast sounds fantastic,” he smiled charmingly, throwing in just a hint of nerves.

 

Sam chuckled, flutters returning to his stomach. He swallowed his food and rubbed the back of his foot against Peter’s ankle. Patrol tonight was going to creep and crawl by, he just knew it. And while Peter **seemed** nervous, he really doubted if he was. Unless it was nerves of **anticipation**. Sam licked his lips, imagining Peter’s lean body under him as he rode his cock. Would he still be so chatty in bed? He hoped he found out. He always slept the best after a good lay.

 

“Ah! Ya caught me,” Sam said, dryly pretending to have a dastardly plan ruined, “What can I say? You just bring out the worst in me.”

 

Sam slid the bamboo skewer in his mouth, lips parting reluctantly around it. He opened his mouth wide enough to take the slice of liver, then closed his lips back around the skewer as he pulled the food off of it. Slowly.

 

“Yeah I **am** a pretty terrible influence,” Peter agreed cheerfully. He was growing more and more sure that Sam was at the very least a SHIELD agent. There was no possible way he was friends with two supers and a had top secret job (which involved fighting no less!) and **wasn't** working in at least some kind of law enforcement. And working with supers meant SHIELD. Even if he hadn't started out with them, there was no way those control freaks would let him spend time with them and not be on their clock.

 

The thought of it almost makes him giggle aloud. Neurotoxin, one of SHIELDs worst enemies. America's most wanted and one of the top ten most wanted villains on Earth. Fucking, or even better, **dating** a SHIELD agent. It was almost too good to be true.

 

“Then again, you don't seem all that innocent yourself,” Peter said, voice low and teasing. He watched as Sam’s gorgeous lips pull off the end of the skewer, seized by the intense urge to kiss them, to see them wrapped around his cock like that instead.

 

Sam hummed faux thoughtfully as he chewed, watching Peter watch him from under half lidded eyes. Peter seemed extremely tickled about something. He must be just as eager for tomorrow’s breakfast as Sam was growing. He idly wondered if he was a screamer when things really got going. He loved hearing the talkers go from chatty to wordless. Would Peter try to keep him pinned down on the bed? Use his height against him? Or was he going to have to do all the work? He really hoped not, and it didn’t seem likely, anyways. He swallowed his food and licked his lips.

 

“Takes one to know one,” Sam said. Not his best but this was the last bite. “You don’t like liver?”

 

Sam didn’t think he was rushing through the meal, but Peter was still toying with his first skewer. Sam bit and sucked the sugarcane a moment longer than completely needed.

 

“Or do you prefer it with a nice chianti?” He raised his pinky and made his best ‘cultured villain’ face as he ate the last slice from the skewer. Then jumped when the server sat down the takoyaki. It was a deconstruction, bits of octopus, batter and a tea light heated oil pot. Spices decorated the plate in the form of an octopus. The plating was gorgeous.

 

Peter grabbed up the liver and laughed at Sam’s ridiculous expression. “I like it just fine. Just not as much as you do apparently. Plus I’ve been a little distracted.”

 

He glanced at the next dish, impressed. “Man this place is swankier than I remembered.”

 

“You know somebody’s hands have been all over that plate with plating that fancy,” Sam said, after swallowing his bite and setting the skewer down. He used his chopsticks to pick up a slice of octopus and tapped it against the spices before dunking it in the batter.

 

“Shabu shabu, swish swish,” he said as he cooked the food in the hot oil, swishing it gently through it. Peter snorted, amused.

 

“You’re a real dork you know that?” Peter dug into his food, having quickly swallowed down his liver, he copied Sam’s motions once he was finished. “For a second on that bench earlier I thought you might be too cool for me. I’m glad to see I was _very_ wrong. Also… ew? I could have lived without imagining people’s greasy hands all over the food I’m about to stick in my mouth.”

 

Sam stuck out his tongue and pulled the now crispy fritter out of the oil, letting it drip for a few moments before he popped it in his mouth.

 

“Ahhh, hot,” he said around the food as he chewed, waving his free hand as if it would somehow help cool down his mouth. Stupid powers only working when the helmet was on, ugh.

 

Peter laughed at Sam’s plight, snorting ‘accidentally’. Keeping up the nerd image, “Yeah, I know I am.

 

“I’m starting to wonder if you think you’re gonna be late for meeting your sister, or if you just always eat this fast,” he said. Normally Peter would have devoured most of what was presented in a heartbeat, but faking a normal human level appetite was a prudent plan, and he’d already eaten that taco earlier. Still he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to eat everything he could get his hands on. He just had to remember to go slow.

 

Sam paused in his swishing of his next  octopus fritter. **Was** he eating too fast? He usually didn't eat enough after a sting from Neurotoxin. Not for a while, anyways. Part of why Banner insisted on keeping him benched right now. His appetite was back now, and reminding him that channeling energy took energy. Like a lot so get on with the eating already.

 

“Ah, no, sorry,” Sam rested his chopsticks over his plate, with his other hand rubbed the back of his neck. Embarrassed he added, “I, uh, may have forgotten to eat breakfast this morning.

 

“We're good on time, Kae won't be out for a couple of hours yet,” he felt compelled to add.

 

“No worries, it's actually pretty cute. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself,” Peter said with a smile. “Sorry I didn't mean to, y’know, call you out or anything. I don't blame you, I'd be eating just as fast if I hadn't swiped that taco earlier.”

 

Sam blushed at being called cute, mouth still full.

 

Maybe Peter'd have time to rob a bank tonight, after business was done. Replace the funds he was about to use to on treating Sam. Plus a few thousand extra in pocket money. The thought makes him smile.

 

“But you know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Peter added, thinking of what they might get up to at breakfast the next day. Hoping it'd be at the very least not terrible. Much harder to date someone that was a bad lay, though it would make it easier. When the inevitable bubble of lies popped.

 

"Ah, yeah. It is pretty important," Sam agreed, having swallowed his mouthful. Fighting on an empty stomach was the worst.

 

“I hope I don't distract you too much tomorrow morning,” Peter purred playfully, then smiled. Sam started on his next octopus fritter and relaxed. Peter had a good smile.

 

“Well, it’ll be dinner for me,” Sam grinned, “I won’t be able to hit the fish markets up for fresh octopus so I hope eggs and hash is cool.”

 

Peter blinked.

 

“Wait, wait, hold the phone. You were seriously planning on making octopus?!” His surprised delight was genuine. Who the hell **was** this guy, and why was he such a **catch**? Heh, seafood pun, his shoulder pals giggled. In rare agreement.

 

“I mean I knew you **appreciated** food, but I didn't realize you actually cooked it! Well like, beyond toast and the shit everyone knows how to make I mean.”

 

“I’m just full of surprises, what can I say?” Sam laughed. He was delighted at Peter’s happy surprise.

 

“Anyways, there’s no way I can take you someplace as swank as this,” Sam said, shrugging. Between them both, the deconstructed takoyaki was rapidly disappearing. “So I figure if the next meal is on me, least I could do is fix you something even better.”

 

“Better huh? Wow you're setting the bar pretty high. Now I'm even more excited for our breakfast dinner tomorrow,” he said, chowing down. If Sam lived up to his word Peter might just have to keep him. He imagined what kind of life that would be, dating a SHIELD agent. For real dating and not stringing him along until he'd used him up.

 

It'd be like the **best** sitcom.

 

He imagined Sam in a ‘kiss the cook’ apron, flipping pancakes while Peter slipped out of his costume just outside the door. Imaginary Sam gave his cheek a smooch before getting a call on his com, regretfully telling Peter he had to go, only to end up cleaning up the mess his boyfriend had just come back from making. The laugh track played.

 

The thought made him smile to himself.

 

Sam puffed up a bit at that, “I am pretty awesome.”

 

He went to reach for more and belatedly realized they had eaten it all. Ah well, the next dish should be coming soon. Peter was smiling just a bit dreamily at him and Sam grinned back. If things went well tomorrow morning, this might be more than a hookup.

 

He imagined how nice it would be to have someone waiting for him after a rough patrol. Imagined Peter having some fancy take out waiting for him when he got home. Peter’s kind, worried exclamations as he told him about the latest ridiculous crap he had to deal with. His shy offer to massage all the kinks out of Sam’s back. His long fingers rubbing him down, and then… He didn’t notice his grin getting somewhat doofy.

 

Peter snorted at that and the smile lingered on his lips as he watched Sam smile like a dork.

 

“Penny for your thoughts? Or should I say Yellowtail Collar for your thoughts instead?” he chuckled as the waitress brought the next plate, nodding and thanking her quietly.

 

Sam blushed, caught at thinking very inappropriate thoughts about the cute nerd across from him. And yeah, it seemed a guaranteed thing, right now. But they hadn’t even kissed yet. And tomorrow morning was plenty of time for Peter to decide Sam actually wasn’t worth it.

 

“Ah, heh, just wondering how you liked your _heuvos_ ,” Sam said, grinning lecherously. Before starting on the tender cheek meat set before them. Eyes sparkling with mischief as he ate.

 

Peter felt his face heat.

 

Oh.

 

The innuendo wasn't even as bad as Sam's previous teasing, but it caught him off guard. He hadn't guessed that Sam might be thinking dirty thoughts about him based on that adorable little smile he'd had on his face. At least he **assumed** he was thinking dirty things, given how he'd blushed when Peter asked. Sometimes even now Peter still felt a flash of surprise when someone attractive was really and truly into him. Sam was cute and hot and even when Peter wasn't actively trying to be sexy he still wanted him. It was a nice feeling.

 

“I um… hot,” he stuttered out, feeling more like the Peter he'd been back in high school than a guy who moonlit as a notorious villain.

 

Sam hummed around his food, delighted. He had no idea how he’d caught Peter so off guard, but the results were perfect. His gorgeous blue eyes widening in surprise, the tips of his ears blushing pink. Too precious. With the way his glasses slid down his nose and the slight ‘oh' his perfect lips made it was all too easy to imagine Peter’s hands tangled in his hair as he sucked him off. In his imagination he didn't worry with condoms, and Peter watched him drink down his come with shocked, eager eyes.

 

“I know you are but what am I,” Sam teased, and it came out lower and throatier and full of much more promise than he'd meant. Ah, oops, he took a drink of water to cover his own embarrassment at his uncooperative voice. When had they finished the yellowtail collar? Ah well. The plate was whisked away and replaced with enoki mushrooms, wrapped in ti leaf and grilled with butter.

 

Peter huffed. Though really he was sure Sam could tell he wasn't actually angry by the begrudgingly amused smile he couldn't wipe off his face.

 

“A dirty charmer,” he answered, delighted. “And an absolute menace. Stop being so irresistible.”

 

Peter laughed, privately planning on making Sam pay for this teasing. Not in a ouchy-bad toxic stinger kind of way though. No. His shoulder devil was in rare agreement against that. His plan involved making Sam feel so fantastic he begged him to cum and begged for more. He had a feeling Sam might be very fun to tease, and he was certainly looking forward to testing that theory out.

 

He took some enoki, making a pleased noise around his mouthful and willing away his stupid traitorous blush at the low tantalizing sound of Sam's voice.

 

Sam grinned. He had no idea what had inspired Peter to sit next to him earlier but he was very happy he’d done so. His embarrassed huff was too cute, his blush was adorable.

 

“Mmmm, can’t help how awesome I am,” Sam said, shrugging and smirking. Tomorrow morning couldn’t come soon enough.

 

“If by awesome you mean terrible then yes, I agree,” Peter said warmly.

 

“So you asked me what I do for fun, now it's my turn. What are you into besides cooking and eating like a champion?” He hoped to get some sort of hint about Sam's life from his answer. No matter how much he was enjoying himself he couldn't forget what he was really here for.

 

Sam spread his hands helplessly at the jab. Then rubbed at the back of his neck.

 

“Well, my job really **is** confidential. But I get to meet a lot of really interesting people with it!” Sam wished he could share what he really did. But it was too dangerous for Kaelynn. He couldn’t put Kae in danger by going public with his identity. And definitely not for some (extremely, adorably hot!) nerd, no matter how swank the first date was. Though he **had** said he studied alien cultures with Doctors Storm and Richards…

 

“The job is just a bunch of-” Sam waved his hands, sighing, “Anyways, what I can tell you about is all the crazy-awesome and crazy-crazy aliens out there! Did you know there are even aliens watching out for Earth to make sure no one blows it up?”

 

Quill was never coming back to Earth, his family thought him long dead. Talking about the Guardians ought to be safe enough.

 

“Well, not just Earth of course. The whole galaxy. But Earth is in it, and they like Nova so they keep an eye on Earth for him,” Sam allowed.

 

Peter leaned forward a little, suddenly extremely interested. There he was name dropping Nova again. That was… **intriguing**.

 

“Really! Aliens that protect earth? That's different than what you normally hear. Sometimes it seems like every other second there's an alien race attacking New York,” he huffed with the annoyed but begrudgingly accepting tone every New Yorker used when talking about aliens “I'm glad we have someone up there along with Nova and The FF on our side."

 

The irony of the statement amused him. Neurotoxin and either **one** of those two goodie goodies on the same side? Pfft. As if that'd **ever** happen. What kind of fucked up dimension would they have to even be in? Hah.

 

Sam nodded.

 

“Yeah, Asgard is technically Earth’s ally too, but,” Sam blew out his breath in annoyance, “They are really isolationist so we can’t rely on them. Just Thor and sometimes his Warriors Three. And Sif of course.

 

“They like to pretend their tech is all magic, they have magic too, they’re just,” Sam grimaced, “Knowing the difference between magic and tech can save your life.

 

“Oh, but Thor’s oathbrother, Beta Ray Bill, he’s cool. He’s not really an Asgardian, he’s the last of his species actually. But he’s worthy enough to wield Storm Breaker, which is like Mjolner but not. Hmm, and there’s Cosmo, he’s-” Sam realized he had no good way to explain how he’d met the head of Knowhere’s security. Why couldn’t he have realized that before mentioning him? Bill at least could be explained by Thor being Earth’s protector.

 

“He’s a psychic cosmonaut dog,” Sam finished lamely.

 

Something about how Sam spoke about Asgard solidified Peter's theory. He sounded far too exasperated with their lack of aide to Earth to **not** be an agent of SHIELD. Peter could just cackle with glee. That is if that wouldn't be weird as hell. Instead he gave Sam his best disbelieving look.

 

“You've got to be shitting me,” he laughed. “A psychic space dog? You're totally messing with me. Or whoever told you about that was messing with **you**. Either way that can't be real!”

 

“No way! He's the head of-” Sam balked, unsure if he should specify, SHIELD was so stingy with cosmic information being released to the public, “anyways, I totally met him! He's crazy powerful and loves pets, being pet.

 

“He doesn't have any ties to earth anymore so he guards his new home,” that seemed safe enough. He fidgeted anyways, he’d never actually talked to a cute guy that **wanted** to listen about these kinds of things. Not a cute **human** guy, and aliens didn’t give two _flarks_ about Earth.

 

“And if **that's** hard to believe, I dunno how you could handle the Guardians. Groot is a tree prince,” Sam said. He clicked his chopsticks together absently, thinking. Then shrugged and listed off the rest of the Guardians. They were basically his family, and they wouldn't care if some human knew of them. Quill would probably even be delighted that his 'code name' was being spread around, “Star-Lord is an alien prince, possibly a king or something. He doesn’t like talking about it. He looks mostly human though. Hmmm, Rocket is an alien engineering genius that just happens to look exactly like a talking racoon.

 

"But don’t call him a raccoon, he, uh, hates that,” Sam added. Remembering his unpleasant introduction to his teacher. Dodging blaster fire with a concussion had **not** been any fun.

 

“Woah okay a tree prince? A talking not-raccoon? Have you met all of these aliens?” Peter asked in awe. Sam had to be some kind of alien liaison for SHIELD maybe? Or… Or something.

 

“How does that happen? Is it through your super pals or something? That must have been intense!”

 

“Yeah, it’s intense alright,” Sam agreed. Thinking on all the times he’d barely saved a planet or system, or even the galaxy by just fractions of a second. Trying not to think of the systems he’d failed to save. He gave himself a little shake to get back on track, “Yeah, I have! If things aren’t life or death Reed and Nova will give me a call if I’m in town.”

 

 _Gotta stick with the alien studies_ , he reminded himself. _Don’t talk about deep space, come on Alexander._

 

“I know most New Yorkers hate aliens, but not all of them are Chitauri or Jotun,” Sam said.

 

“They sound pretty cool to me,” Peter said with a shrug. “As long as they aren't crashing through the wall of my apartment that is. I'm kinda excited to learn more about them.

 

Peter paused to thank Linda as she brought their next dish. A simple seaweed salad. Peter took some on his chopsticks, it was almost like tangy, salty noodles.

 

“And look at you Mr. Big Shot, casually name dropping Nova and Reed Richards. How does it feel to be way too cool for a nerd like me who has met a grand total zero supers? Unless that one Hulk impersonator in a skimpy purple speedo and green body paint counts,” he laughed. It's almost too funny how easily the lie slips out. It's as if he doesn't spend a large part of his precious time beating and getting beaten on by every hero out there.

 

Sam laughed, embarrassed. He could feel his ears flushing pink. He practically lived and breathed space and Avengers. Nearly everyone he knew was a super or a hero or both.

 

“I’m not a big shot, Big Shot,” Sam said, trying to recover from the reminder that nothing about his life was normal. “I just got lucky.”

 

And wasn’t **that** the truth? How many kids got anything, much less superpowers when their deadbeat parent finally ran off?

 

“I feel like **I'm** getting lucky, having met you. In more ways than one,” Peter said in a teasing tone. “But seriously you're hot and you have all this cool alien knowledge and you know supers!”

 

Peter gave him a sweet smile, trying to exude nerdy charm, his blue eyes sparkling.

 

“You're outta this world!”

 

Sam groaned. That was so painfully bad. Peter had no idea just how awful a pun that was.

 

“Oh my gods, that was awful,” Sam said, giving Peter his ‘I’m secretly amused but pretending to be annoyed’ look.

 

“I think you kinda liked it,” Peter singsonged. “I think you think I'm adorable.”

 

He paused, considering how best to bring up Nova and Johnny again.

 

Sam grinned.

 

“Oh no way. You’re not kinda adorable,” Sam said, smirking, waiting a beat to add, “You’re totally, a hundred percent adorable.”

 

Sam took a drink of water, watching Peter with a teasing smile.

 

“A hundred percent?! Little ol’ me?” Peter asked, eyes wide and lashes fluttering. Then he snorted.

 

“I'm getting the impression you like the puns.”

  
“Maybe I kinda like it,” Sam allowed, then always eager to talk about himself, “So you seriously think alien stuff is cool?”

 

He hadn’t even finished telling him about all of the Guardians yet. That was a safe enough topic, probably. They had been to Earth a few times, but that’d been secret, ughhh. He couldn't share that. He took a bite to stall.

 

“So what do you know about aliens, anyways? Most New Yorkers shut off when they hear the word,” Sam said, laughing a bit in a self depreciating way. Peter rolled his eyes.

 

“Most New Yorkers are assholes too,” he said bitterly. He shook his head a little, summoning a smile back to his face, “But yeah! I know absolutely nothing so you'll have to tell me everything! I wanna hear all about these good aliens you've met. Did you actually get to talk to them?”

 

Most New Yorkers were rude as an angry Hel, so Sam shrugged Peter’s bitter comment off.

 

“Yeah! I did! The Guardians of the Galaxy, that’s the team that Nova is sort of with, out there,” Sam waved, indicating space, “They’re pretty wild. There’s Groot, and Rocket. Star-Lord. And then there’s the deadliest assassin in the galaxy, maybe even in the universe, Gamora. And Drax the Destroyer. They, uh, I know that sounds bad, but they keep the galaxy safe!”

 

He was probably better off not mentioning that they were also smugglers on more than one occasion, even now. That would bring up all kinds of questions, not the least of which would probably be ‘how could a hero like Nova work with criminals?’. Him and his big mouth.

 

Peter's eyes went wide.

 

Well, well, **well**. This **was** news. He struggled to turn his gleeful smirk into a concerned look before Sam could notice it.

 

“Wait. Back it up, rewind a second. Goody two shoes Nova, superhero and New York heartthrob works with an assassin and a ‘Destroyer’ in space?” He said, sounding distressed when inside it was like fireworks of glee going off in his chest. Maybe Nova wasn't as pure and good as he liked to make out he was. Maybe he was such an obnoxious asshole because he was fighting himself even while he was fighting him?

 

“When you put it like that, it sounds kinda bad,” Sam said, “But I’m serious, they keep Earth safe! Without them we’d be chitauri slaves, or worse! Badoon zombots.”

 

Sam shuddered at the memories of fighting the rotting corpses of the badoon front lines. Then shrugged uncomfortably. He’d never really thought much on what the Guardians did in their spare time, other than to ask the gods and goddess and spirits to maybe keep them out of dimension ending trouble for like five minutes please and thank you. Drax was proud of his title, thought nothing of killing his opponents. And Gamora really only hated being mistaken for Thanos’ daughter. Quill, ugh, Quill couldn’t stop conning someone if his life depended on it. And Rocket’s concept of property ownership was, really, mine and not mine yet...

 

“Saving all of existence has got to count for something,” Sam said, though maybe it was not the strongest argument he could’ve used. “And, really, what does it matter if they get in trouble sometimes, it’s all just misunderstandings.”

 

That was a blatant lie. Oh man, he was messing this up bad.

 

Peter grinned. Today was like Christmas.

 

No. Today was like Christmas, his birthday and a huge pay raise all rolled into one. Even Sam’s attempts to justify Nova’s acquaintances just makes him feel even more gleeful. The fact that he thought he **had** to make excuses… What wasn't Sam saying?

 

He took a moment to imagine all the ways he could use this against Nova. All the ways he could use it to taunt him, undermine him, make him doubt himself. It gave him the warm fuzzies it really did.

 

“I guess if you say so,” he practically sang out, grinning. “I’m like 90% sure I don’t want to be a baboon zoombot so I guess even if they **are** criminals I should be thankful.”

 

He thought momentarily of the children he’d helped, but quickly pushed that thought away. There’s no way he even slightly compared to **anyone** Nova hangs around with. He was **better** than that.

 

“Anyways! There’s more aliens out there, though lots of them look pretty human, or uh, I guess we look pretty alien?” Sam reflected. Trying to change the subject. “Humans are a really young species. We kinda look like less pink Krylorians, or maybe more like Kree.”

 

“Really? So like the tree guy and the raccoon think we look ridiculous?”

 

Sam can feel himself relaxing. He did not want to get into a debate about Nova being a menace or a hero.

 

“Yeah, totally ridiculous!” Sam smiled. Linda was swapping out their plates again. Dessert was up now, fresh, hand churned red bean and taro root ice cream mochi. Little purple and red sweet treats. He made happy noises as he ate, fresh ice cream too tempting to talk now.

 

Peter practically attacked the mochi, unable to wipe the smile off of his face.

 

“You’re ridiculous,” he said with his mouth full. He savored the sweetness, both of the dessert and the moment. Sam really was something. He could honestly kiss him.

 

And that wasn’t even just a figure of speech. Peter’s eyes drifted to Sam’s lips, lingering on the lower one. There was a tiny hint of mochi at the corner of his mouth, and he wanted nothing more than to lick it up. To kiss Sam deeply and suck that full lower lip into his mouth. He wondered if that would make him moan. Peter just wanted to reward him for giving him all this beautiful perfect information and for being so beautiful and naive and so sweetly stupid and perfect himself.

 

The meal was a good start. But the desire to please and reward Sam was strong. He wanted to spend money on him, take him to every fancy restaurant in the city and to the shitty ones too. He wanted to give him pleasure, make him moan and shake and orgasm as many times as he desired. Sam deserved it. They’d barely even started and already he deserved it.

 

Sam laughed, and stuck out his tongue.

 

“I know you are but what am I” Sam teased. Peter was something else entirely. Cute, funny, fun to talk to, and a good listener. Sam took the final mochi and hummed in delight at the taste. This unexpected encounter would be over all too soon, now. But tomorrow morning…

 

Sam licked his lips as he thought about it. Peter was a weird combination of bold and shy. How should he approach him after he made him dinner, no not dinner for Peter. Breakfast for him, probably. He’d probably have to leave after their hookup, too. New York may never sleep but most of it’s inhabitants seemed to work the day shift.

 

Probably for the best, he was an awful cuddler and Earth guys hated that. At least in his experience.

 

“Fucking incorrigible,” Peter shook his head fondly.

 

“Oh before I forget, I'm going to need your number,” Peter almost laughed as Call Me Maybe started playing in his head. Oh man he was such a **loser** _._

 

Sam pulled out his smartphone. The only good thing about being on the Avengers, well, one of the good things. He supposed. It wasn’t frustrating **all** the time. But free battle proofed StarkTech definitely helped.

 

“Oh yeah, totally!” Sam traded numbers and sent Peter a quick text.

 

   _1-212-555-5972: Hey Big Shot ;) its Sam_

 

Peter fished his phone out at the sound of the Imperial March, his nerdy ass text tone, and fumbled to open it. The message earned Sam a little bark of laughter and then an eyebrow raised skeptically.

 

“Oh my god, you text like a teenage boy. I’ve changed my mind. We’ve gotta call this whole thing off,” he giggled, pressing his leg against Sam’s. “I’m gonna get sexts like ‘what are you wearing winky face’ and dick pics tonight I can just tell.

 

Still he texted back.

 

_1-649-555-9824: hey alien dork, be like saturn and gimme a ring sometime_

 

Sam’s phone chimed like a power up getting picked up.

 

“Like I got time to take pics of my dick. No promises about the sexting though,” Sam said with an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows. He bumped legs with Peter under the table as he checked his phone.

 

“You’re going to send me like, an essay on if robots dream of electric sheep or something at some ungodsly hour aren’t you? I can tell. You text like a grandpa,” Sam teased right back. Grinning and eyes sparkling. There was no way this could last more than a few hookups, but while it was on it was going to be **fun**.

 

Linda brought them the final dish, passionfruit and lychee macarons. Decorated with elegant, edible squid ink art on their tops.

 

“Will there be anything else today?” she asked them, smiling. Before Sam could demand to give his compliments to the chef, his phone’s alarm went off. Sam hurried to silence it, tips of his ears turning pink again in embarrassment.

 

“Um, no thanks, just the bill please. That was absolutely fantastic,” Peter said politely.

 

“Alright I'll bring you gentlemen the bill right over,” Linda replied and headed off, leaving Peter to turn to Sam with an interested glance at his phone.

 

“Just the reminder Kae is getting out now,” Sam said, by way of apology.

 

“Ah, has it been that long already? If you have to head out I can stay here and pay,” Peter said, not wanting this to end yet. He was happy. A genuine happiness he hadn't realized he'd missed, the kind that came from having a good time with good company. He was loathe to let it go.

 

“Yeah, it’s getting on. Feels like it hasn’t been that long at all,” Sam agreed. Growing regretful. It was great having someone actually **listen** to him for once. Even if he couldn’t talk about everything he wanted to talk about. Kae still had to travel to the library, and this place wasn’t all that far away. Still.

 

“I’ll text you when I get off shift?” Sam said, tilting his head questioningly.

 

“I look forward to the dick pic,” Peter told him, grinning just a little bit regretfully.

 

He looked at Sam, thinking how adorable he was. Thinking about how excited he was for breakfast. Thinking about how much he wanted to grill him for more info. Mostly thinking about that stupid bit of mochi at the edge of his mouth.

 

To tell or not to tell, that was the question. He’d kiss it away like he thought of before but…

 

“Oh, by the way, you’ve got a lil' something right there,” he said, tapping the corner of his own lip.

 

“I’d get it for you but that seems a little forward,” he added with a chuckle.

 

Sam wiped at his mouth with his napkin.

 

“Thanks, but you don't have to be so shy, Big Shot,” Sam leaned forward and kissed him, full of promise.

 

“Later Petey Mesquitey,” Sam sang as he headed out the door.

 


	4. What a Tangled Web We Weave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jack be nimble_  
>  _Jack be quick_  
>  _Jack jump over the candlestick_  
>  \- Traditional English Nursery Rhyme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings Scene One: Torture, Blood, Arson, Murder/Minor Character Death
> 
> Warnings Scene Two: Food, Whole lotta fuckin'

It was a calm crisp and clear night in Lenox Hill. Well, perhaps that wasn’t **quite** true. There was one apartment building that wasn’t exactly feeling the **calm** aspect of the evening. In fact, most of its residents were evacuating in quite a panic. What with the fire alarm having been pulled and the notorious firebug supervillain Neurotoxin still on the loose.

 

Neurotoxin was sure they’d be fine. He hadn't actually started the fire, just yet. But he'd had a **blast** prepping this fucker's apartment. He grinned at his own pun. It went unseen behind his mask.  **He** was feeling perfectly calm, perched comfortably on the back of a plush green sofa in a spidery crouch. The man webbed up before him had been reduced to pathetic sobs some time ago. Blood oozed from various stab wounds, staining his webbing in such interesting patterns.

 

“You’re a terrible conversationalist,” he told the man. The pathetic fucker made a muffled sound through the webbing on his mouth. Neurotoxin doesn't care. They never say anything interesting at this stage, probably more pleading or cursing. 

 

“Is it the alarms? Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled them if I wanted to make out what you’re saying,” Neuro pondered aloud, “But see, there’s about to be a fire in here, and I figured I’d do my duty as a good citizen and make sure everyone got out.”

 

He gets more muffled shouts and some thrashing at that. It's just a real pity he can’t understand a word of it through the webbing on his face. Really. He’s sure this monster must be a **sparkling** conversationalist.  

 

“How do I know there’s about to be a fire you ask?” Peter says, putting words into his mouth for him. It’s nice of him really. The fucker in the chair should be thanking him for this bit of kindness. It's certainly more than he deserves, “Well you see, I’m about to light it.”

 

Neurotoxin reached down, pulling a lighter out of one of his pouches. It had a smiley face on the front. He liked the irony of it. He flicked it on, watching the flames dance. Watching the bastard in the chair’s eyes widen in terror.

 

“You see, I know things about you pal. Not so nice things. Real talk: you’re a piece of filth and you deserve to die. And that’s coming from me. Me!I’m a **supervillain**! You know you’ve made some bad choices when a bad guy like me thinks you’ve been awful,” he tsked, shaking his head sadly. Neuro turned the lighter off, then flicked it back on again. The sharp scent of accelerant filled the apartment and his 'companion' flinched away from the tiny, cheerful flame. Neuro smirked at his cowardice.

 

“So I said to myself 'Neuro, why not pay good old Jareth Brown a visit, you know? I’m sure he’d just **love** to spend some time with his friendly neighborhood Neurotoxin!' Not that **this** is **my** neighborhood mind you. Way too swanky for me,” Neurotoxin whistled, looking around at the trappings of the room. His eyes linger on the 75” TV in the middle of the wall.

 

“It’s kinda a shame that thing is gonna burn though. If I could webswing it home, you know I’d take it with me.”

 

The man struggles futilely against the webs securing him to the chair, staining them further. It's as if the loss of his precious TV was something worth fighting for. But all he's doing is burning up the last of his adrenaline. It’s almost precious that he thinks he can escape.

 

“Oh hey, I almost forgot!” Neuro hopped down, sitting on the couch almost like a normal person so that he could rummage around in another pouch, it had been enough time now, “Ahah!” He pulled out a detonator and waved it merrily, “Now that everyone is out it’s time to go boom! And then I light you up like tinder. And no, I don’t mean the dating app.

 

"You've had enough of **that** ," he hissed, sounding less than human. He tilted his head, the many blank eyes of his mask gleaming in the pot lights as he pressed the button. The blasts were loud. The building shook, and the tied up man in the chair began screaming louder through the webbing. All of it was music to Peter’s ears.

 

“Hey now, make sure you keep your eyes on me, I’ve been told I really light up a room,” Neuro said as he shook the lighter merrily. He stood and started the slow stalk across the room towards the tied up man. Letting him stew in his helplessness while his tormentor took his time getting ready, “Guess it’s about time to get this party started!”

 

* * *

 

 

Nova's helmet pinged unscheduled demolition blasts just before it tuned in to the emergency frequencies. He was blasting to the site even as he snarled, “Neurotoxin!”

 

He couldn't control the fire, not like Johnny. But he was immune to it. He could get anyone out fast. And with enough concentration he could absorb at least some of the heat. Slow the burn while the fire department did their thing if needed. Speaking of...

 

An engine was stuck in traffic down below. The fire men and women yelling at the cars in front of them to get out of the way even as the siren blared and lights flashed. He almost flew past it, but he dropped down next to the driver side window.

 

“Hey guys, need a lift?”

 

“Nova! The fire in Lenox Hill, fast!” the driver said, relief plain as day.

 

“You got it!” Nova lifted the engine easily and took off again towards the fire.

 

* * *

 

Neurotoxin started by lighting Brown’s side table on fire. It was a pretentiously fancy little thing made of birch, which of course meant it went up in flames fast and burned hot. He had barely needed any accelerant.

 

Neurotoxin watched it for a moment, smiling. Though his smile was lost on his 'companion'. Brown seemed to be yelling himself hoarse beneath his gag. Good. Neuro wanted him to suffer. He deserved it.

 

“Aww are you sad I’m wrecking your things?” Neuro taunted, pout clear in his voice, “Don’t worry. You’ll be out of my misery soon enough.”

 

The sound of sirens made him pause, glancing at the window. It was faster than he'd planned for, “I wish we could spend more quality time together, really I do. But the supers are probably already on their way.”

 

He leaned in close to the struggling man in the chair, his mask mere inches away from his terrified face.

 

“Get used to the flames. There’ll be a lot of them where you’re going,” he hissed, and lit the chair on fire. He stabbed him one last time, in the thigh, pumping full of venom. No hope of surviving now, even if some do gooding super managed to get to him before he burned up.

 

It was a shame that much venom paralyzed them instantly. He would have loved to for his screams to follow him out the window.

 

* * *

 

Nova set the engine down as close to the nearest hydrant as possible. Of course there were illegally parked cars blocking it. He picked them up and stacked them on a nearby roof, out of the way. The fire fighters waved their thanks as they set to work.

 

Nova hovered above the blaze, not wanting to make the flames worse with his wake. His helmet was scanning now for life signs. No humans. But, he cut in on the rescue band, “Nova here I'm not detecting any human life signs left. But there's some pets I'm gonna try and get outta there.”

  
He waited for the firefighters all clear, calculating the best route. Then he blasted off.

 

* * *

 

It was almost too easy to slip out the window and disappear across the street, where he watched the blaze from the safety of a nearby building.

 

The sight of Nova saving critters was precious, and he had to admit he was glad. He’d only planned on having one casualty tonight, and little house pets didn’t deserve to fry like that. If only Nova could burn, he thought sadly. But that stupid suit kept him safe and sound.

 

Ah well. He’d still take killing that sick fucker tonight as a win.  

 

* * *

 

Nova left his debrief, annoyed.

 

“Ground floor Jarv,” Sam said, taking off his helmet in the elevator. His bag appeared, along with his street clothes. He slid his helmet in it roughly.

 

“Of course Nova,” Jarvis’ smooth tones said.

 

Sam tried not to let Stark’s snark get to him. He actually **liked** Tony, he really did. Just, sometimes he was so very **Tony Stark** that he wanted to punch him in his entitled face. Maybe he should try to grow out a goatee, just to annoy him. Hawkeye’s acknowledging that his saving pets was important to their people felt bitter in the wake of the team reprimand. He was supposed to have been benched, not on patrol at all. It grated at him that they were still worried about the sting from that stupid spider. Like they couldn't believe his helmet was learning the fastest way to heal him from it.

 

Sam ground his teeth as he walked out of Stark slash Avengers tower.

 

As much as Sam wanted to blast straight to his tiny (cozy! He tried to think positive) apartment, it was too risky. Completely boring and normal Sam Alexander took the subway and buses.

 

Before he lost reception he sent Peter his address and a quick text.

 

   _Finally off teh clok! b rdy 4 u in 30_

 

Peter stepped out of the shower, finally smelling less like ashes, and checked his phone. He chuckled and sent

 

_you’re a fucking nerd did you really just spell clock ‘clok’_

 

On the bus now, reception back, Sam checked his phone and sent

 

   _Haha yea nerd u like it :p_

 

_u never said how I like ur eggs ;)_

 

Peter laughed to himself and texted back, moving towards his closet to grab some clothes.

 

_Over hard ;)_

 

Sam chuckled and sent back a message before getting off the bus and heading back to his apartment.

 

   _How bout poached lol if u want sumthing hard i got sum sausage 4 u :p_

 

Sam hung his bag on the hook next to the door and started a pan of water on the range of his tiny stove. He set out a frozen bag of precut hash browns on the counter.

 

Then he scrambled through his place, stripping down and picking up dirty clothes and dropping them in the laundry. He hoped in the shower and scrubbed down, then ran the very short distance to the kitchen. He seasoned the water and pulled out a skillet.

 

His phone got a text, he put on the oil and picked up his phone.

 

_Big Shot: Mmm sausage sounds good. Can't wait to taste it_

 

Sam smirked and sent back another.

 

_hehe all american meat no filler ;p_

 

Sam pulled down two clean coffee mugs and cracked four eggs each in them. He set the water to simmer and drained the defrosted potatoes in the sink, then tossed them in the skillet and ran to get on pants. Hookup or not, pants were probably a good thing.

 

Peter arrived at the address Sam had texted him earlier, dressed in tight faded grey jeans and an unbuttoned blue flannel shirt over a white tank top. He figured Sam deserved at least half a step up from the nerdy t-shirt look he'd been rocking the day before. He entered the building only to find himself in a closed off lobby area. The names on the buzzers were terribly unhelpful. Why were there so many Sams living here?

 

Situations like this were when Peter wished he could just climb up the side of the building and enter through a window. Not that it'd do much good since he didn't know which apartment Sam was in anyways.

 

With a sigh he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Sam's number.

 

Sam stumbled out of his bedroom at a run. Clean sheets on the bed and buttoning up his pants as he ran to get his phone.

 

“Yo, this is Sam.”

 

Sam sat the phone down and put it on speaker. He poured one mug of eggs in the hot water and stirred the hash. Oh, right, shirt!

 

“Hey alien boy! I come in peace, but I kinda need to know where you want me to come,” Peter laughed into his phone. Sam sounded a little out of breath. It was cute.

 

Sam tripped on the souvenir bag from the exhibit yesterday and grabbed the shirt Kae had picked out for him. Her sense of humor was as bad as his. He didn’t know if he was proud or annoyed as he pulled on the soft cotton shirt proudly declaring the wearer both radioactive and glow in the dark.

 

“Oh, right! I’m in thirteen P!”

 

Peter glanced at the name plate, rolling his eyes at the weird language written under Sam’s name. He should have figured.

 

“‘Kay I’m headed up now.”

 

Sam pushed the bag under the bar and pulled out plates. He tasted the hash and added some spice, stirring it again. He plated Peter’s eggs and started his poaching. Then went to unlock his door.

 

“It’s unlocked, just come in when you get here. Oh, and you have to take the elevator to twelve, then walk up. Seriously don’t push the button to thirteen, sorry!”

 

“What’s it gonna do shoot me to the moon if I do?” Peter laughed. He walked to the elevator and hit the button, waiting for it to come down. “Anyways I’m getting on now. Be there soon.”

 

He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for floor twelve, rolling his eyes. Not that he wasn’t used to apartment buildings being a pain in the ass. His own wasn’t even as nice as this one despite the fact that with his side-job of robbing people blind he could definitely afford a better place. He had a cover to keep.

 

Speaking of covers, Peter figured he should actually _walk_ up the stupid stairs instead of scaling the wall like he wanted to. Though, as he stepped off the elevator (pushing past the half open outer doors) and into the stairwell it did seem very empty…

 

Ah, well, fuck it. He had to live a little. He grinned and leaned over the railing so that he could shoot a web up to the railing of the floor above. Once there he slipped his shooters off, stuffing them into his backpack. From how dinner went last night, he was guessing that he’d be losing his clothes this morning. There was no need for Sam to find a surprise on his wrists.

 

In no time he was walking into the hallway, finding Sam’s door and pushing it open.

 

“Hello?” He called in. “Anyone home?”

 

Sam looked up, smiling. He’d just set their plates on the bar. His apartment too small for both a proper dinner table and a couch.

 

“There’s no one here but us chickens,” Sam snarked, “What you wanna drink?”

 

He made his way back to the fridge, Pulled out a pitcher of orange juice and poured himself a glass.

 

“Chickens huh? And here I was thinking it was cocks,” Peter laughed, met with the sight of Sam’s back as he reached into the fridge. His ass sure was something. Peter grinned at the things he was about to do to that stellar ass, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

 

Sam snorted, amused, as he poured Peter a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. Fresh squeezed when he’d woken up the previous cycle, before getting trashed by Neurotoxin. It was still plenty good though.

 

“Orange juice it is!” Sam put the pitcher back and brought Peter his glass of juice. Peter took the juice, about to thank him when suddenly he noticed his shirt.

 

“Oh. My. God,” he said, laughing hard enough that he had to rest his orange juice on the bar to keep from spilling it. “That shirt is fan- **fucking** -tastic!”

 

As someone who was legitimately radioactive Peter couldn’t **wait** to get one of his own. Or at the very least wear Sam’s. He let his eyes skim down the front of Sam’s body appraisingly. “So, is it true? Do you glow?”

 

Sam grinned at Peter’s laughter, and sat down on the stool next to him. He took the chance to mix his egg yolks with his hash and start eating. Peter’s genuine delight at his dorky shirt was great. He couldn’t wait to see how he responded to the **really** fun stuff.

 

He swallowed his mouthful of food and batted his eyelashes with a coy tilt of his head, “Guess you’re gonna get to find out, Big Shot.”

 

He even tittered fetchingly before he cracked himself up and giggled for real. Peter snorted at that, shaking his head.

 

“Promises promises,” he cooed, gently nudging Sam's arm. He turned his attention to the food before him, inhaling deeply.

 

“Smells amazing,” he said, sounding just a hint surprised. He also mixed in his yolk and took an enormous bite. The sound Peter made as he chewed was downright lewd, but he didn't mind. Fuck, that was **delicious**. Sam watched Peter eat, licking his lips. He knew his food was good, though it **was** nice to have the compliments Peter was lewdly giving him.

 

Speaking of lewd…

 

Sam ran his hand up Peter’s thigh. _Das’t_ he was toned. He wasn’t kidding about working out, in the least. He didn’t stop at Peter’s thigh, and pressed his palm against his cock. Peter blinked at the first touch, but by the time Sam's hand had reached upper thigh he figured he knew where this was going.

 

“Mmm, is it time for the sausage already?” He purred, closing his eyes and pushing his hips forward at the feeling of Sam's hand on his dick through his pants.

 

Sam grinned and popped his fly, dropping on his knees between Peter’s legs. He pulled out Peter's cock and gave him a few firm caresses. Getting him good and hard before licking around the head of his cock.

 

“Don't stop eating on my account. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Sam purred. Before licking down Peter's shaft.

 

Peter gasped, one hand moving down to tangle in Sam's hair. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he breathed. “Mmm... God, is it my birthday or something? Breakfast and a blowjob. Fuck, I'm a lucky boy.”

 

Sam laughed lowly as he licked up Peter's cock. Then hummed faux thoughtfully as he took his head in his mouth. Peter made a soft sound at the back of his throat, his mouth full of Sam's delicious food. He looked down, watching Sam’s lips slide over the head of his cock with dark eyes. His hands tightened encouragingly in his hair. Sam moaned at Peter's fingers in his hair. He flicked his tongue along the ridge of his cock and bobbed down before slowly dragging his lips back up. Tongue swirling slowly against his shaft.

 

“Yeah, just like that,” Peter praised Sam, tugging at his hair. He had a feeling the man on his knees liked that if his previous moan was anything to go by. “Good at cooking and good with his mouth. What **can’t** you do?”

 

Sam pretended to answer, teasing Peter as he sucked his cock. Peter's tugging at his hair distracted him and he moaned again. Peter’s hips pushed forward against his will at the vibrations Sam’s moan caused against his dick.

 

“M-my bad,” he breathed, having pushed further into Sam’s mouth than he’d meant to at this point. If Sam was into rougher sex he’d figured they’d get into that eventually, but not at the very start of their first blow job. Still he couldn’t deny how badly his accidental action had made him want to fuck Sam’s pretty mouth.

 

Sam took his cock without compliant, Peter’s eagerness getting him hard. His unexpected roughness exciting him. He shifted his weight, wiggling just a bit as his pants pinched. Sam took Peter's cock just a bit deeper in his mouth, letting his head brush against the roof of his mouth as he blew him.

 

“Oh. Oh, god, yeah, Sam. That’s good,” Peter groaned unashamedly, figuring that Sam’s happy moans and wiggles definitely meant he didn’t mind things a little rougher. He held his head, bucking into his mouth more confidently now, feeling his cock slide down deeper into Sam’s hot wet mouth with each pass.

 

“Fuck, you’re so good.” He caressed Sam’s head, then tugged on his hair again, harder this time. Sam shuddered and moaned. He reached his hand up and wrapped it around Peter's cock, meeting his lips and moving in rhythm. Using his spit to slick his hand as he blew him. Peter groaned, taking a moment to enjoy the hot wet feel of Sam’s mouth. God he felt amazing. Still, Peter had plans. Plans that involved kissing Sam senseless, making him moan and writhe. Regretfully he tugged Sam off of his cock, taking in the beautiful sight of his spit slicked lips so close to the swollen head of his erection.

 

“Come here,” he demanded, pulling Sam up by his collar even as he leaned down to meet him in a bruising kiss. Sam kissed him back eagerly, surprised at how strong Peter was. His snark was swallowed by Peter's hungry mouth. He kept his hand working on Peter's dick, rocking his own erection against Peter's leg. The feeling of Sam rutting against his leg made Peter shiver just as much as the hand on his cock did. He sucked at Sam’s lower lip, trying to coax more pleasure sounds from him before he pulled back. Sam gasped as Peter sucked on his lip.

 

“I want you in my lap,” Peter said, his voice low and rough. Sam nearly climbed in his lap right then, but his bar stools were sadly **not** that strong. Peter's gaze was full of promise. No hint of the awkwardness from yesterday. His commanding tone sent more thrills of excitement racing through Sam.

 

“Yeah, Pete, whatever you want. I don't wanna break this shitty stool,” Sam's voice was low and rough. His green eyes bright and eager. Sam moved his hand from Peter's dick to his perfect, narrow hips and lead him further into his apartment. He couldn't resist another hungry kiss, before he asked, “couch or bed?”

 

“Bed,” Peter decided, running his hands up Sam's shirt. His skin was warm and nicely muscled, and Peter was struck with the sudden urge to kiss and lick Sam's abs. He slid his hand down, fingers catching on the clasps of Sam's pants and undoing them one by one as they slowly made their way through the apartment. He slipped his hand down to rub at his cock, feeling out the outline of it with his fingers. Sam shivered and moaned at Peter’s teasing of his cock. He was hard and wanting, Peter’s hand, his mouth, his ass.

 

Whatever Peter was planning Sam was so, so ready. He pushed Peter onto the bed and stepped back. He locked eyes with him, grinning as he shimmied out of his pants and boxers. His hard, cut cock bouncing as he moved. Peter licked his lips, his eyes on Sam's hard cock. God he was pretty. Peter wanted him in his mouth. He crawled forward on the bed, tugging Sam to him by his hips before he could do anything else. He looked up at him through his lashes and slowly, deliberately licked a long wet line from the base to the head before taking him into his mouth.

 

Sam dropped his hands from the hem of his shirt to bury them in Peter’s fluffy hair. He whined, and moaned, nearly cusing in Xandarian before catching himself and getting stuck on the ‘f’. He rocked his hips, but his grip on Peter’s hair was gentle.

 

“Fuck, fuck yeah,” he finally got out. He looked down, watching Peter take his cock in his mouth. Lips stretched so nicely over him. They hadn’t gotten around to taking off his glasses and he looked so hot in them. 

 

Peter hummed around the length in his mouth, watching Sam watch him. He wanted to rip Sam's shirt off of him, get them both naked and on top of each other on the bed, but he had to admit he was enjoying sucking him off too. Sam's fingers felt good in his hair as he took him deeper into his mouth before moving back up to suck and lick at the head of his cock. Locking eyes with Sam he trailed his hand down his own stomach and wrapped it around his own aching length. He moaned deeply as he took Sam fully into his mouth again, matching the movements of his hand on himself to the movements of his mouth around Sam.

 

Sam made breathy moans as Peter blew him. He was amazing. The vibrations of his hums, the wet heat of his mouth. So hot. Literally hot. And when Peter took his own cock in his hand and started jerking himself as he sucked him he reflected he really should have jerked it before this. Get the easy one out. Because he was way too close. Panting, he pulled Peter’s mouth from his cock with regret. He dropped to the mattress, kissing him. He tugged off Peter' unbuttoned shirt, hands eagerly caressing and squeezing his muscled arms as he wrangled the offending garment off of Peter’s spectacular body.

 

“Mmm someone's eager,” Peter laughed when they broke apart, arching as Sam's hands explored his body. He leaned in to kiss him again, then again, pushing forward until he could press his naked cock against Sam's. Sam groaned into Peter’s kisses. He reached down between them to wrap his hand around their cocks.

 

“I didn't even get to finish breakfast,” Peter teased as he pulled his undershirt over his head. He leaned in to mouth at the line Sam's neck, sucking hard enough to be just shy of bruising and running his hands back up under his shirt, pushing it up his chest.

 

“Yeah? Who’s,” a breathy moan at Peter’s rough sucking on his skin, “who’s fault is that? I told you to eat,” Sam gasped out. He stroked their cocks together, teasing Peter’s head with his thumb. Naked, Sam could clearly see scars on Peter’s body. They looked long healed, and some downright cruel. He dropped his head to the closest one, kissing and licking tenderly at Peter’s skin.

 

“You’re too fucking perfect,” Sam groaned, moving his kisses tenderly across Peter’s body even as he pumped their cocks, “gods dammed gorgeous,” more tender licks, “fucking spectacular.”

 

Peter groaned, shivering under Sam’s mouth and hands.

 

“I know you are but what am I?” Peter teased, his hips working, cock sliding so fucking good between Sam's palm and his hot length, “Mmm, you know what else you are? Terribly overdressed,” Peter bit at Sam's shoulder, then lapped at the mark he left there.

 

Sam shuddered and leaned back, letting go of their cocks to pull his shirt off. He’d long ago lost any self consciousness about his own scars. His suit healed all but the worst back to nearly normal anyways. Still unseen across his back were healed whip marks. Just missing his heart was the first time he’d gotten tagged by Neurotoxin and his _das’t_ stingers. That first one had been the worst. He’d been laid up for days, no antivenin Banner had access to had helped. The pain had been so bad Cap hadn’t let his mom or little sister see him. He’d been begging Stark to kill him to end it. Over his kidneys were the next two hits. But he’d only been out not even three days the second time. The pain had been bad, but nothing like the agony from before. And the last one, still fresh and pink, he’d been unconscious through most of it. Woken up with a hell of a hangover and no appetite. 

 

Peter’s eyes widened at the sight before him. Sam’s scars weren’t terrible to look at by any means, but they **were** familiar. Far too familiar. One on his chest, two down lower, one fresher than the other. Each one a place he’d stung Nova.

 

For a moment the world fell away in a spiral of surprise, and all that existed was those three spots on Sam’s skin.

 

His love of space, his odd job, those **scars**.

 

Nova.

 

He’d come across **Nova** sulking over their fight on a park bench. Fed **Nova** expensive Japanese. He’d let **Nova** cook him breakfast and suck his cock, and he’d sucked his in return.

 

He blinked and looked up, astonished, into Sam’s face. Nova was sweet, adorable, lovely Sam? How was that possible?!

 

And what should he do about it?

 

His should devil whispered gleefuly. How it would be so **easy** to slit his throat **right here**. Kill him **now** and- the thought makes Peter recoil, feeling suddenly sick. His shoulder angel stops it's pathetic sniffling, looking up hopefully.

 

He **can’t**.

 

He can’t take advantage of him with his guard down like this, naked and wanting. And now that he knows who the space hero is… how could he possibly poison **Sam** _._ Sam who has a little sister, and wears pun shirts, and cooks amazing food. Sam whose smile made Peter feel things he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

 

Fuck.

 

He reached out, trailing one hand down the expanse of Sam’s chest. Felt the heat of him under his palm. The rise and fall of each breath. Peter’s fingers danced ever so gently around the scar on Sam’s chest. He’d been aiming for his heart that time, he remembered it well. In a rush with the Avengers on his tail, needing a distraction that would stop them cold. Now he was glad he missed.

 

Maybe… maybe there was another way.  

 

It was a strange sensation, touching him so softly in a spot he’d once thrust his stinger in. Trying then to cause as much pain as possible. It sent a weird feeling coiling through him, part regret part strange sort of thrill. A kind of power flows through him in this moment, and yet the urge to protect in the same breath. 

 

Sam raised Peter’s hand from his chest to kiss him. Shock, surprise, was that excitement? And something he couldn’t place, ran across his face at the sight of his naked chest. Sam felt himself tensing up, it usually wasn’t the guys that cared about scars. Other than wanting to know how he’d got them, maybe. He kissed down the back of Peter’s hand and then licked and nipped at his wrist. Suddenly unsure. This was totally a hook up. Even if it was technically a second date. But he would not at all be averse to cooking more meals for Peter. Maybe, maybe next time Kae wanted to go to The Met he could invite Peter. He thought Peter might enjoy that. Assuming his odd hours didn't drive him away.

 

Sam gave Peter a nervous grin, hoping his sudden anxiety wasn’t obvious.

  

Leave it to Nova to fuck him up this hard.

 

“Someone did a number on you,” he said, his voice quiet. He reached up with his other hand to touch the scar, fingers so very gentle, and leaned in to kiss Sam’s neck. Sam was **his**. Marked by him three times. All he had to do was lure him over, make him switch sides, and **Nova** would **be his** for real. **Willingly**. He wanted that, now. Wanted Nova on his side, doing things the **right** way. More than anything. He wanted to see the Avengers faces as their own member turned against them, as the space hero came to him and floated by his side. He nuzzled Sam gently, moving up to nibble on his ear.

 

How had he gotten this lucky?

 

Peter’s gentle touches set Sam at ease.

 

“No kidding?” Sam snarked, kissing Peter’s wrist to take the sting out his tone. “Scars come with the job. It happens.”

 

He let go of Peter’s wrist and kissed and licked along the shell of his ear.

 

“Looks like someone worked you over pretty good, too, Big Shot,” Sam said, moving his kisses lower and kissing Peter’s scars tenderly. Peter’s body was something else, muscles so well defined and his skin soft and smooth. Sam couldn’t help the sudden flare of protectiveness that wound through him. And possessiveness. How dare anyone hurt someone as sweet and kind as Peter?

 

“You need me to kick their ass,” he said, mouth running off without checking his brain as usual. “Not that you can’t handle yourself! Just,” Sam kissed another scar. _Flark_.

 

Peter smiled. How was it possible that this absolute sweetheart was **Nova**? Nova was a pompous loudmouthed asshole. The scar he was kissing at the moment was one **he’d** left on Peter’s skin. The thought of Sam beating himself up made him chuckle.

 

“Thanks, but most of these are old,” he said as he ran his hands down Sam’s naked back to grip his ass. “And we’re both a little busy right now, don’t you think?”

 

He tugged Sam up onto him, letting him settle on top of him. A hot and solid weight against his front. He kept his hands on his ass, squeezing playfully with a pleased smile, “Bout to be very, very busy in fact.”

 

Sam laughed, relieved he hadn't messed this up. He really ought to learn to shut up.

 

“Oh, yeah Petey. Verrrry, verry busy,” he purred, wiggling his hips.

 

Peter smiled at Sam’s antics, still having the hardest time dealing with the cognitive dissonance of knowing that this cute dork was the asshole of a superhero who was always getting in his way. He squeezed Sam’s ass again, letting his fingers trail in between his cheeks. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered into Sam’s ear, taking the lobe between his lips, then between his teeth, “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

 

Sam shivered. Head filling with visions of Peter drinking down his come, jerking his cock and spilling his load between them. Peter jerking him off and licking the mess up off his stomach, Sam sucking his cock and drinking him down. He wanted it, wanted everything Peter would give him.

 

“Fuck me,” he said, instead. Voice low and rough and full of need, “Fill me up.”

 

He nodded at the night stand next to his bed.

 

“Supplies are in there, Peter.”

 

Peter hummed, suddenly feeling unsure. Sam said he wanted to be fucked, but he knew that if the man on top of him had any idea **who** he was fucking he’d never ask for that. It made him feel itchy, like he wanted to stop. But Sam was here, willingly asking, and Peter needed him. Not in a sexual way, though he was certainly turned on. No. Now that he knew who Nova was he realized he’d had it all **wrong**. 

 

All those heroes in the world, not willing to do what needed to be done because they thought they were above it. They dangerously thought they could capture and rehabilitate the terrible monsters lurking in the dark, preying on the weak. How many times had someone who was so called ‘rehabilitated’ reoffended? How many people were The Avengers willing to let get hurt before they did something to stop it for good. Before they left their sense of moral superiority at the door and did what the people of New York **needed** to be done.

 

Nova though… underneath that moral superiority, that frustrating do gooder helmet. He was this nerdy, adorkable man, someone who just wanted to do right for the right reasons. Sam just needed Peter to show him the truth. To show him that sending some people to jail was better than they deserved.

 

He resolved that he’d tell him he was Neurotoxin. But not now. Sometime, though. Now... Now he needed to show Sam who he **really** was. Underneath the villain mask, underneath the burning hatred that drove him to what he did every night. He leaned over, fishing for the lube through the drawer.

 

Sam watched Peter lean over for the lube. More scars were on his back. Sam felt his fingers twitch in the sudden urge to hit whoever had done that to him. They were, like Peter had said, old. He had to have been in his teens, maybe. Sam felt his own scars itch, getting whipped could hurt. Hurt a lot. 

 

Finding it, and ignoring the condoms, Peter moved back to kiss Sam deeply. He knew **he** was clean, and if that stupid fucking helmet could heal Sam from his venom then so was Sam. Peter ran his hands all over Sam's body, trying to channel what he felt in the moment into every adoring touch. **Finally** he’d found someone who could handle this lifestyle and not get burned. Who knew how high the risk of getting burned really was.

 

“Are you sure?” He asked against Sam’s lips, curling his fingers lovingly around his cock and stroking.

 

 _Flark'ng_ idiot. Sam thought, but it was an affectionate thought. Just **who** had he stumbled across, sitting and sulking on that park bench? Peter was amazing.

 

“Of _fl_ -fucking course I’m sure. Fill me up, Peter,” Sam moaned breathily. Gods, he hoped they were gonna do this again. He wanted to do so, so much more with Peter. 

 

Peter grinned at Sam’s tone, his misgivings fading to the background as Sam made it **abundantly** clear what he wanted. Peter thumbed at the head of his cock, giving him a wicked look as they locked eyes. “Well if you insist,” he said, letting go of Sam to reach for the lube. He popped the cap, slicking his fingers and rubbing them together to warm it. His fingers dipped back down between Sam’s ass cheeks, rubbing firmly at his tight entrance. With just enough pressure to tease, but not enough to slip inside. Sam growled at Peter’s teasing and rocked his hips back, trying to get his fingers inside him.

 

“Tease,” Sam accused, nipping at Peter’s neck. Peter shivered at the bite, still smirking.

 

“I think you might kinda like it,” Peter purred, dipping the tip of his first finger just inside, before pulling back out.

 

“Or wait… is that _me_ who likes it,” he fake pondered, tracing his calloused fingertip around his hole before pushing it back in, deeper this time. He grazed his teeth down Sam's neck and pressed his pleased smirk against his pulse point.

 

Sam whined and rocked back against Peter’s finger. Then moved his hands up his perfect abs to his perfect chest and teased at his nipples, trying to encourage him to get on with it. Peter gasped as Sam’s fingers found his nipples, arching his back. Oh, so Sam wanted to play dirty, huh? Peter grinned and pushed his finger in slow but deep, crooking it to make him squirm. He thrust a few times and then very slowly drew his finger out to rub at his hole again, locking eyes with him and grinning innocently.

 

Sam made inarticulate noises of frustrated pleasure as Peter teased him so _das’t_ slowly. He gave Peter’s nipples another light squeeze, glowering as best he could while Peter teased the sensitive skin of his ass.

 

“You’re _fla_ -fucking evil,” Sam hissed, just before kissing Peter as thoroughly as he could manage while grinding against him. He mewled into Peter’s hot mouth as their cocks brushed together from his motions.

 

“Nngg,” Peter managed when they needed to breathe. The feeling of Sam teasing his nipples sent sparks of pleasure through him strong enough to make him feel more of Sam’s urgency.

 

“Yeah, but I can be nice sometimes too,” Peter said, pressing two fingers against Sam’s hole, relishing in the tightness as he pressed them inside. Sam was so hot, the resistance against his fingers easing a little with each pass as he searched for his prostate. He was going to feel so amazingly good around his cock.

 

Peter crooked his fingers deep inside of Sam, biting harder than he had been before, sucking every bit of skin he could get his eager mouth on.

 

“ _Flark_ , fuck, _yayat_ , fuck yes,” Sam could no longer focus on keeping every word completely English. Peter’s fingers pushing inside him, fucking him, felt amazing. His bites were a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure he was giving him.

 

Sam drug his fingers down Peter’s sides, moaning and gasping as he rocked back against his fingers. He could feel himself saying more of the same, but then Peter found that little bundle of nerves and he bit down on Peter’s shoulder to hold back the scream of pleasure. His hips jerked reflexively before he started grinding down on Peter’s fingers in earnest. Peter moaned loudly as Sam’s teeth sunk into his skin, his cock pulsing hard and desperate to be buried inside of Sam instead of between them.

 

“Fuck yeah Sam. That’s it. Bite me harder, ride my fingers. You’re so fucking hot, I want you so much. Want to fuck you ‘till you can’t take anymore, make you scream my name,” he babbled, stilling only long enough to add a third well lubed finger to the tight heat. He spread them gently to stretch Sam more, getting him ready. He knew from past experience that his cock was a lot to take, and like all of his partners he wanted Sam to enjoy every single second of this.  

 

Sam was only too eager to comply, biting Peter’s shoulder again. Then biting at his chest, harder just like he’d asked.

 

“ _Yayat, flark!_ Yes, yes, yes, fuck me Peter. Give it to me,” Sam panted, reaching one hand for the bottle of lube. Only mildly annoyed he couldn’t heat it up the easy way, with his powers. He squirted some onto his palm and warmed it up. Sucking and licking at Peter’s nipples while it warmed, before reaching for Peter's cock. Getting him slick and ready.

 

Peter’s thrusts into Sam got rougher as the other man teased his nipples and slicked lube along his dick. **Fuck** that felt **good**. He could hear his mouth running, praising Sam. Telling him how hot he was moaning and taking his fingers for him, how hard he was making Peter. How fucking amazing his mouth felt and how badly he wanted to sink inside him, fill him with his cock, stretch him wide around it and feel him bounce on it. His words were punctuated by little gasps and moans, his free hand busy roaming Sam’s body and stroking his cock. He couldn’t have cut himself off if he tried, but he had a feeling Sam might not mind so much,

 

“Fuck Sam. I need to be inside you. Wanna fuck you so fucking bad c’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”

 

“Yes! Yes!” Sam held Peter’s cock and braced himself with is other hand on his shoulder. He pressed his ass down onto him, making an inarticulate noise of pleasure as his head pushed past the tight ring of his entrance.

 

Peter grabbed Sam’s hips, holding him steady. “Fuck, God okay that’s hot but just… slow, go slow,” he soothed, digging his nails into Sam’s sides. “Please. God Sam you’re so-” he trailed off into an indecent moan, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as he gently guided Sam down further onto his cock.

 

Sam writhed in Peter’s grip. _Flark_ he was **strong**. When his struggles only furthered in slowing Peter down, he relented and bit his chest. Then kissed the red mark softly.

 

“I can take it! I can take it, _flark_! Let me fuck you, Pete!” Sam plead, shaking, voice rough and cracking. Peter whined low in his throat.

 

“God fuck, maybe _you_ can. But I’m not gonna last if you- nggg,” Peter thrust a little harder, going just a bit deeper, Sam’s pleading making him desperate to give in to his desires and fuck him hard and fast.

 

“Mmm Sam, yeah, yeah, screw it. Fuck me hard, however you want. I wanna fill you up, cum inside you, get you messy,” he groaned, letting go of Sam’s hips and bucking up so that his full length slid in as deep as he could go.

 

Sam felt himself make some kind of ridiculous noise at the amazing, hot feeling of Peter’s perfect cock filling his ass. He was thick and full and **good**. Sam held onto his shoulders and rode his cock fast and hard. Panting, moaning, gasping maybe words and needy little noises. Eyes half closed and hair messy.

 

“Oh fuck,” Peter groaned as Sam did his level best to ride the ever living hell out of him. **God** he was good at this. Maybe he’d had a lot of experience in space. The thought drives a curl of possessiveness through him. He wants to fuck Sam better. Wants to drive him out of his mind with the pleasure of having his cock deep in his ass. Wants him to come back to **him** for **more**.

 

He ran his nails down Sam’s back, leaving trails of reddened skin in his wake. Grasping Sam’s firm, gorgeous ass he started to lift him up and tug him back down, bucking his hips in counterpoint to drive him harder, deeper into that beautifully tight hole.

 

“Yeah, ride it just like that. Fuck, you’re good. So good. Sam,” he groaned as he watched Sam’s pretty cock bounce with his movements.

 

Sam arched into Peter’s scratches, working in time with Peter as he fucked his cock. He cried out wordless pleasure as Peter’s cock found his prostate. The head of his perfect cock dragging past and pushing against it with each thrust. His own cock throbbed between them, smearing precum across their stomachs as they fucked on his bed. His moans were an incoherent mix of English and Xandarian.

 

Peter grabbed Sam by his hair with his free hand, gently pulling him into a deep messy kiss. He bit and licked at Sam's lips, lost in the pleasure of fucking him just the way he wanted.

 

“Yeah, Sam, I love the way you moan for me. You're so perfect, I love hearing you,” he reached his hand between them, grabbing Sam's cock and jerking it roughly, hand still slick with lube.

 

“Gonna make you cum so hard you see stars. Gonna make you feel so good you'll want my cock again and again,” he groaned, his hips bucking unfailingly at that angle that had Sam losing his mind above him.

 

Sam sobbed from the pleasure of it all. Peter's gentle-rough hand on his dick, his hard cock filling him so achingly full. His sweet mouth saying such dirty, naughty, delightful things.

 

“Pete! Peter! I'm so close!” He managed to gasp out.

 

"Cum for me Sam, please," Peter groaned, consumed with the need to watch Sam unravel, "Yeah, oh god yeah, yeah, I want to see you you to spill all over. I wanna lick your jizz off those gorgeous abs."

 

Peter worked his hips hard, aiming to make Sam shake apart. In the end it was Peter's voice that sent him over the edge. His seemingly innocent mouth promising him such filthy things was too much. He came hard, groaning as he shot his load over their chests and stomachs.

 

Peter shuddered, rolling them so that Sam lay beneath him. Sam collapsed, gasping and panting. He rolled with Peter, making soft little noises as he tried to catch his breath. Peter barely slowing his thrusts as Sam came and came, slicking the skin between them. He had a better angle now to thrust, taking complete control as he worked his cock into Sam over and over again, his forehead pressed to Sam's.

 

Sam blinked open his eyes at the feel of Peter’s forehead on his. Each thrust in of his amazing cock wrung a thready moan from him. His cock pulling out to thrust again made him whine.

 

"Is this okay?" Peter asked, slowing down a little. Sam whined again and nodded, a very affirmative yes. He was full, so full, and it was good, so, so good. Everything was hazy with bliss. He watched Peter fuck him with completely blown eyes, the green of his iris nearly gone.

 

“Sam,” Peter moaned, pulling back so that he could see Sam's dazed face and watch his expression with each thrust. “You're amazing. You feel so good, you're so fucking gorgeous.”

 

He leaned in to kiss him, crying out against his mouth as his hips stilled and he came deep inside him. Sam wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist, holding his pulsing cock deep inside his ass as he came. His hot cum filling him up. Sam kissed him back, hungry for everything Peter was giving him. His cry of pleasure was just as perfect as the rest of him.

 

“You’re perfect, Peter, so fucking hot. Fill me up, yeah, give it to me Pete,” Sam whispered as Peter cried out against his lips. Sam wrapped his arms around him, tangling his hands in his messy sweaty hair.

 

“Gods you’re so hot, it feels so good,” Sam moaned. Peter’s cum and cock were so, achingly hot. It was just the best. He could pass out right now. Here on his bed, sweaty and sticky and messy and full of Peter, and damn the consequences.

 

The only sounds Peter could make were blissed out little whimpers and heavy exhales as he recovered, just barely stopping himself from plunking down on Sam. He pulled out when the tight heat became too much on his sensitive, spent dick. Grinning in exhausted delight he managed to scoot down the bed, locking eyes with Sam through his glasses and licking a long wet line through the cum pooled on his stomach.

 

Sam reached weakly for Peter, aching at the loss. Empty and burning in that good, thoroughly fucked way. Then dropped his hands to the bed, surprised. He watched him lick up his cum with wide eyes.

 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. Sam vaguely wondered if he’d perhaps been mind whammied into one of his fantasies, if even now some stupid magician or telepath was wreaking havoc through New York while he laid in a blissed out heap on a rooftop somewhere. Peter was amazing. Impossibly perfect. Every cute nerd and hot stud he’d ever wanted all in one lean, sweet faced, dirty mouthed man.

 

“Thought you were just sweet talkin’,” Sam mumbled, unable to tear his gaze away from nerdy Peter, glasses somehow still on and _das't_ if he didn't find that way too hot. His warm pink tongue licking his cum off his stomach like it was a fucking treat. If he wasn't so exhausted... Sam moaned.

 

“I'ma man of my word,” Peter purred, his voice low and soft as he lapped at Sam's cum. He licked a few more times, chasing the bitter taste of it on his tongue before climbing back up to kiss Sam sweet and deep. He licked along the seam of his lips hoping Sam wasn't one of those guys who thought it was gross to kiss you right after you've swallowed his jizz.

 

As it turned out, Sam was most definitely not one of those guys. He opened his lips and sucked at Peter’s tongue. Relishing the thrill of possession that wound through him at the taste of him in Peter’s mouth. He twined their legs together and wound his fingers in Peter’s messy hair. Too tired to drag them up the bed to the pillows and ready to snuggle down on his mattress and pass out.

 

“Mmmm,” Sam hummed in appreciation. Both at Peter’s soft voice and bitter, salty taste of his cum in his mouth.

 

“Totally agreed,” Peter chuckled tiredly. God he hadn't had a chance to sleep at all the night before, and while that was pretty much par for the course for him, fucking Sam had **really** tired him out.

 

“Morning snooze?” He asked, curling up against Sam's side and sliding his arm around him. He didn't bother to ask if he was a snuggler, too tired to form the words and too used to clinging to anyone he was even slightly close to to even fully realize he was doing it. He nuzzled his nose against Sam's hair, breathing in the scent of him. “Or do you wanna get cleaned up?”

 

Sam snuggled up against Peter. Completely delighted that he was a snuggler, too.

 

“Mmmm, nap,” Sam mumbled, laying his head on Peter’s chest and listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

 

Peter chuckled softly as Sam settled in and quickly fell asleep on his chest. His breathing was deep and even, his naked body beautiful.

 

For an instant Peter thought again how easy it would be to take him out. His should devil reminding him if he killed him in his sleep he'd never have to deal with the pesky Firefly again. He doesn't need his angel's pathetic pleading. He knows he’ll never do it. Sam feels like his now. He feels like a new beginning in a way Peter hasn't felt in years. He can't wait to ‘corrupt’ him. To show him how much better justice could be when you took it to the extreme.

 

He picked Sam up and stood, pulling back the covers. He smirked at the tired, displeased noise Sam made in his sleep at being jostled. He gently placed Sam in bed and, set his glasses on the bedside table. He crawled in under the covers and wrapped himself around Sam.

  
“Sleep well, Sparky,” he said softly, and closed his eyes, joining Sam in sleep.

 


	5. The Morning Fuckening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Fire in the disco_  
>  _Fire in the taco bell_  
>  _Fire in the disco_  
>  _Fire in the gates of hell_  
>   
>  _Don't you want to know how we keep starting fires?_  
>  _It's my desire, It's my desire, It's my desire_  
>   
>  _Don't you want to know how we keep starting fires?_  
>  _It's my desire, It's my desire, It's my desire_  
>   
>  _Danger! Danger! High Voltage!_  
>  _When we touch, When we kiss_  
>  _Danger! Danger! High Voltage!_  
>  _When we touch, when we kiss_  
>  _When we touch_  
>   
>  \- Danger! High Voltage, Electric Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: More fuckin'

Sam stretched wide, yawning loudly. Well, well, well. Peter was still here, and conked out too. He didn’t mention working the night shift. Huh, well taking candid pics of the rich and super and famous probably **was** a night time calling. Sam pushed up to his elbow, watching Peter sleep for a moment. He was drooling all over his pillow. They must have moved in their sleep, or something. And at some point they’d managed to find and even get under the covers, too.

 

Sam scratched at the dried mess on his stomach. Gross. But totally worth it. He also really had to pee, so he pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head and slid out of bed to do his business. As he washed up he wondered if Peter was the kind of guy that enjoyed morning sex. The last human he’d been with had hated it. It’d been annoying, to say the least of it.

 

Peter stretched out his limbs, waking up for the second time that morning. In his sleep fogged state he wondered for a moment if he’d had a one night stand and woken up alone. He didn't usually pick up strangers, but occasionally… He smiled as he woke further, remembering last night with Sam. With  **Nova**. Speaking of, he wondered where he was. Couldn't have gone too far since it **was** his apartment, but waking up alone sucked.

 

The first time he’d awoken it was to Sam’s snores, his warm body pressed up close against his own. He'd been the one to sneak out of bed that time, poking around until he'd found the bag whose contents proved once and for all that Sam really was the space hero he'd figured he was. The bag with that fucking helmet. He'd been tempted to smash it. So tempted. Instead he'd crept back to bed, slipping under the covers and cuddling with the still sleeping Sam.

 

Now, Peter sat, rubbing his bleary eyes and stretching out his stiff limbs.

 

“Hello? Did I get wham bam thank you ma’am ditched?” He called out.

 

Sam stepped out of the restroom, still naked, if a bit cleaner now.

 

“Oh, **now** you wake up. Of course,” Sam snarked, prowling back to his bed. He eyed Peter’s sleep mussed hair and lean, perfect body with hunger.

 

“Mmm good **morning** S-Sam," he purred. He'd nearly called him sunshine, and while that was a perfectly innocent pet name, he called him that far too often as Neurotoxin for it to feel safe. At least now he fully understood Sam's stutter. Though he hadn't seemed to care about speaking Spaceese earlier. Peter licked his lips. He wanted to make him lose control like that again.

 

"Your apartment has the absolute nicest view," Peter said, eyeing the Sam's naked body.

 

Sam laughed, smirking smugly. "The view out the window is shit you sweet talker.

 

"Though from where I'm standing I'd agree it's pretty _da_ -damn great," he purred. He crawled up the bed, both playful and stalking. Rather like a cat about to get his cream. He kissed Peter warmly as he pulled the sheets down. Taking time to caress his muscles slowly.

 

"Mmm is it?" Peter asked coyly, thrilled at how ready to go again Sam was. "What're you planning on doing with this view huh? I have a feeling from the way your hands are wandering you don't just wanna look."

 

He slid his hands down Sam's toned naked sides, sliding one forward to rest on his stomach as he leaned in to nibble lightly at his neck.

 

"Mmmm, you've got some good intuition Petey pie," Sam said, voice low and teasing. Sam reached between them to slowly stroke Peter's hard cock.

 

"You don't happen to know where the lube ran off to, hmm?" Sam leaned down to lick at his nipples, delighting at the tiny noises Peter made as he teased him.

 

Peter gasped, a louder and much more dramatic sound than the ones he'd been making at Sam's exploration of his body.

 

"Why Sam. Whatever would you need lube for?" he cooed, acting every bit the shocked prude.

 

He wrapped his right hand around Sam's cock, giving him teasing strokes as he groped with his left for where he remembered throwing the lube. Sam giggled at Peter's silly teasing.

 

“Cause I'm gonna fuck you senseless, duh,” Sam said, grinning against Peter's chest. A shiver worked its way through Peter at Sam's words and his promising tone.

 

“Oh! Well, in **that** case,” he breathed, voice betraying how turned on he was as he finally found the lube. He shook it triumphantly at Sam, and passed it to him quickly. “How do you want me?”

 

Sam grinned, letting his eyes wander up and down Peter’s body. He’d thought he’d have to sweet talk him into bottoming. Spirits, could he be any more perfect if he tried? Sam rolled the bottle of lube between his fingers, trying to think up a better answer than 'Yes!' Since that made zero sense and definitely sounded way too thirsty. He pulled one of Peter’s legs up, raising it and watching his muscles flex. He kissed his ankle and nipped at his calf.

 

“Mmmm, I was thinkin’ just like this is fine,” Sam said, enjoying the sight of Peter’s sleepy, too blue eyes looking up at him. Sam set the lube next to them, within easy reach, and spread Peter’s legs wide. Peter moved with him easily, presenting his ass without complaint. Sam dropped down between his legs and ran his wet tongue along Peter’s puckered entrance.

 

“Oh fuck!” Peter tossed his head back in pleasure at the unexpected heat of Sam's tongue against his hole. “Fuckity fuck fuck, yeah Sam,” he moaned unabashedly, spreading his legs wider, pulling them further back and showing off his flexibility.

 

Sam's tongue was hot and wet and so fucking _perfect,_ licking up inside of him in ways that made Peter's toes curl. Every once in awhile he'd suck at him, making Peter writhe and shout out in bliss. God, fuck, he loved getting rimmed. He'd only ever had it done once, but Sam was fucking fantastic at it. Definitely better than his friend had been.

 

“Oh, oh, oh, please fuck please Sam, god yes, yes you're so- yes!”

 

Sam hummed, delighted at Peter’s enthusiastic moaning words. But he was still making something like full sentences. He’d have to fix that, he wanted Peter begging for his dick. Pleading to get fucked. Gods, he was so flexible, too. He hadn’t mentioned being into yoga when Sam had brought it up. He worked his tongue inside Peter’s tight ass, then drug it back out slowly. He licked and kissed and sucked at Peter eagerly. He could do this all day.

 

Sam reached for the lube, not bothering with warming it as he squirted some on his cock. He closed it and tossed it aside, then gave himself a few quick pumps. Lubing his fingers and dick as he warmed it up on himself. Peter’s hands fisted in the sheets, and he had to be careful not to rip them. It was God damned difficult though. Sam was doing everything in his power to make it hard. Heh. **Hard**. Peter was **definitely** hard. Sam's mouth was perfect and amazing, but the ache of needing to be filled was starting to build.

 

“Sam, please,” he gasped out. “More please. Stop teasing.”

 

Sam pulled his mouth away from Peter’s ass. That was more like it.

 

“Please what?” Sam growled, nipping at Peter’s perfect thigh. Then licking gently down one of his many scars. He kissed and nipped at the globe of his perfect glutes.

 

“Tell me, Pete, tell me what you need,” Sam demanded, before returning to lick and suck at his gaping hole. Gods he wanted to fuck him senseless, but not more than he wanted to hear his sweet, nerdy voice beg for it first. He stroked his own cock loosely, not that he needed the stimulation to stay hard. Not with how Peter was writhing under his mouth. His fingers were slick and warm enough now to fuck him. When he asked for it.

 

Peter groaned, the sound more whimpery than he'd intended. Jobs aside, Sam was downright **evil** _._ But if talking was what he wanted, Peter could sure as hell provide. As soon as he found his voice that was. He moaned out a choked off word as Sam sucked at his hole before plunging his tongue in, deep and spectacular.

 

“N-need you to fuck me,” he managed as Sam made him squirm. “Sam fuck, please I need your fingers. I need your cock in me. Fill me up, fuck me, fuck me, **please**. C’mon, I wanna feel you. Wanna feel you opening me up Sam. Getting me all wet and ready for you. Please.”

 

Sam slid his first finger into Peter tauntingly slowly. He wanted to plunge his fingers in and stroke his prostate until he was a wordless mess. But _das’t_ , if this how he was going to talk Sam wanted to draw it out until he couldn’t stand it. He moved his licks and kisses up to Peter’s shaved balls, teased his finger inside of him. Finding his prostate and rubbing it so slowly as he licked at his balls. He pulled it back out, pressing the rough pad of his fingertip against the tight ring of Peter’s entrance. He slid his next finger in with his first. Pushing them again teasingly slow as he reached for Peter’s prostate.

 

It was officially **official**. Sam was worse than any super villain who had ever existed, eveeeeer. **Including** him.

 

“Fuck you, you're such a teaaaase,” Peter groaned in agonized pleasure. Then he amended that statement. “Fuck **me** ," Peter tried to leverage his hips up, fucking Sam's fingers in earnest, while he let his mouth run.

 

“Sam, **please** I need your cock. I need you in me Sam please please fucking please! Stretch me, finger fuck me, I want your cock **now** _._ I'll do whatever you want, just open me up. Make me yours,” he practically sobbed out, working his hips as best he could, not caring how desperate he sounded as long as it'd make Sam **move** _._

 

“ _Flaaahhh_ , fuck,” Sam gasped, barely catching himself in time. Peter desperately fucking himself on his fingers, begging for his cock, was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Hotter than Sol, that’s for _das’t_ sure. He tried to push his hips down, keep him still with his other hand. But he might as well have been trying to hold the Rhino back without his helmet. “Fuck,” Peter was strong. Way stronger than his lean form looked at first, second, and third glances. Sam stretched his fingers easily inside him.

 

“You’re so ready for me, Pete,” so very ready. Sam was teasing still, he'd known Peter’d been ready for a while now. He was enjoying the heady feeling of bringing him such pleasure. And the power of withholding what he was begging so desperately for. Sam wanted to talk so much dirtier with him, but they really should talk it out first. He sighed and pushed up onto his knees, grabbing onto Peter’s hips and lining up his lubed cock. Peter moaned in relief at the feeling of the head of Sam's cock stretching him back open. Those few moments of emptiness when he'd pulled his fingers out had seemed like an eternity.

 

“Yeah, yeah Sam, fuck that’s good. You’re so hard for me, so big,” he moaned, then opened his eyes to glare when Sam didn’t start fucking him like he’d wanted.

 

“Sam,” he grumped, hands coming up to scratch down his back.

 

Sam sunk into Peter’s hot hole slowly. Relishing the lube slick tight heat of him as he claimed him inch by aching inch. He shuddered at Peter’s nails scratching his back. It wasn’t gentle. It **was** good.

 

“ _Flark_ , you,” Sam bit his tongue, then gasped out, “You’ll take what I give you and you’ll like it.”

 

Peter tensed, frowning.

 

“Don’t,” he breathed. “I don’t… don’t like that,” Peter made himself relax by sheer force of will, wrapping his legs around Sam’s waist. Sam froze at Peter's words, looking at him in confusion.

 

“The ‘you’ll take what I give you’,” he explained. He turned his head to the side, losing the mood a little bit, losing that deep connection he'd been feeling just a moment before. 

 

“ _Schlag_ , I’m sorry Pete,” Sam said, instantly out of the moment and pressing gentle kisses against Peter’s legs. He grabbed his hips and rolled them over, letting Peter ride him.

 

Leaning down Peter pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to Sam’s lips. He kept his movements slow, sinking down on his cock and rising back up as unhurriedly as possible. Sam was too **good**. **Too** sweet. He was worried and precious and he'd just given him control, **just like that**. It made Peter want to make him happy. To please him as thanks for his understanding.

 

“S’okay,” he panted against his lips, repeating the torturously languid roll of his hips. “Wanna go at your pace, it was just the wording. Wanna make you feel good. You can tell me what to do. You feel so good inside me.”

 

He nipped at Sam’s lips, sinking down slow again. Sam moaned as Peter rode him so deliciously slowly.

 

“ _Flark_ , okay. Okay,” Sam gasped, reaching up to grab onto Peter’s hips. Rolling into his heat with languid thrusts, “You feel so good. You’re _flark’ng_ amazing. You’re makin’ me feel so good right now. You’re so perfect.”

 

Sam’s mouth ran on, praising Peter as he fucked him slowly. Peter made pleased sounds at the praise, shuddering each time he was seated fully on Sam’s cock.

 

“Mmm Sam. So fucking good, I’m so full. P-please. Wanna go faster. Want you to fuck me. _Please_ ,” he placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders, slid them up into his hair. He was struggling to keep going slow but he wouldn’t go faster unless Sam said so.

 

Sam shivered at Peter’s words. Even in a position that gave him total control he was doing only what Sam wanted. He moaned wordlessly at the heady feeling of possession, lust, and pleasure that wound through him. He wanted to fling Peter against the wall and fuck him hard and fast. Wanted to flip him over and watch his amazing ass bounce as he slammed into it. But he really, really wanted to watch his face as they fucked.

 

“Fuck me, Pete. Ride me like you like, use me until I come and then fill me up again,” Sam said, breathless and wanting.

 

“Yes Sir,” Peter said teasingly, speeding up the pace, slamming himself down on Sam’s cock with abandon. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” he kept up a litany of little curses and moans, riding Sam like his life depended on it.

 

“You’re so fucking good. Wanna be good for you. Make you cum inside me, fill me up. Want to be yours, yours, fuck Sam. Take me, I belong to you,” Peter felt his face heat at the words spilling from his lips. Fuck. Maybe he should tone it down…

 

“Yes, yes, _yayat_!” Sam gasped out more of the same, holding onto Peter’s hips as he fucked him. Gods, how he wanted this perfect man all to himself. Wanted to make him his today, tonight, tomorrow. For as long as Peter would take him, he wanted him completely, “Gonna fill you up! Make you mine!”

 

Sam was close, so close. “Take it from me, Pete. Gonna cum!”

 

“Yes, yes, cum for me,” Peter moaned, feeling relieved. He felt a curl of something unnameable work its way through him. Sam wanted him. Sam was going to be his, and he was going to be Sam's. He just had to do this **right**. Had to make him realize how much **better** things could be **with** him, on **his side**.

 

“Sam I need it! Need to be filled,” he gasped out, kissing him again. All teeth and tongue and fevered desire. “Yours,” he whispered against Sam's lips. “Need to be yours. Make me yours.”

 

Sam came, cock pumping Peter full of his cum. He couldn’t think, couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. Everything narrowed down to Peter. Peter’s perfect ass surrounding his cock. His beautiful, too blue eyes clouded with need. The sheer desperation as he kissed him.

 

“Mine,” Sam agreed, finally able to get something past the tangled knot of emotions swirling through him as his cock finished pulsing. Stopping was the last thing on Peter’s mind as Sam came inside of him. He kept riding, his thighs tensing with his movements, his mouth glued to Sam’s neck. He made happy little sounds as Sam’s jizz made his ride slicker, easier.

 

“Yes, yours,” he sighed in agreement, shivering hard as he fucked Sam. It took a moment of waiting for instructions for Peter to remember Sam’s earlier words through his haze.

 

“Mmm, Sam. Sam. Gonna fuck your mouth now, fill you up like you told me to,” he hummed, sucking at his skin between words. “Gonna watch you swallow it down. Gonna show you how good I can be. For you.”

 

He lifted his ass, whining sadly when Sam’s cock slid out of him. He ignored the feeling of cum leaking down his thighs, instead looking up at Sam, waiting for his permission. Sam whined at the loss of Peter’s amazing heat. Though with his sensitive cock finally free from the ‘torture’ he managed to nod and gasp out, “Yeah, fuck my mouth.”

 

Peter crawled forwards, pressing his leaking cock against Sam’s lips. He shuddered as the sensitive head of his cock rubbed against the wet line of his lips, smearing precome across them. Sam licked up Peter’s precum eagerly, opening his mouth for more. The position was awkward, effectively pinning him down to the bed as Peter fucked his mouth. Peter couldn’t get his cock deep down his throat from this angle, but it’d do.

 

Sam moved his shaking hands to Peter’s perfect ass. Lube and his own cum dripped down onto his stomach at Peter’s motions. Sam hummed around his cock, teasing him with his tongue as he teased at his ass with his fingers. His thrusts into Sam’s wanting mouth were shallow, but just the act of it was enough to have Peter feeling an edge away from cumming. He pressed his hips back, urging Sam to stuff him with his fingers again, to give him the fullness he craved.

 

“So fucking close. Gonna cum Sam. Gonna fill your pretty mouth. Will you drink it all down for me?” He asked, feeling every inch of warm wetness as he slid his cock in and almost fully back out of Sam’s mouth over and over.

 

Sam pressed his fingers into Peter’s stretched, cum slick ass. His first two fingers slid in easily. He moaned an affirmative around Peter’s dick and flexed his tongue into a clover for him. He found Peter’s prostate unerringly and stroked it gently as Peter fucked his mouth. He pushed his tongue against Peter’s throbbing cock in time with his fingers slowly fucking his ass. Peter had been so good. Given him everything he’d wanted and more. Sam couldn’t move his head, but he slipped a third finger inside Peter and spread them. Stretching his ass tauntingly further before he set to fucking him in earnest. Giving him the hard and fast pace he’d been begging for earlier.

 

“I’m- I’m gonna-” was all Peter could get out before he was shouting, cumming for what seemed like forever buried in Sam’s mouth. He moaned as Sam swallowed around him. He swallowed and swallowed, and still Peter's cum ran down his chin, down his cheeks.

 

“Mnnnnn,” Peter said intelligently, flopping off to Sam’s side bonelessly. Sam moaned wordless agreement as Peter nuzzled against his neck. Peter realized too late that he was getting cum in his hair, but he didn't care to be perfectly honest. He hadn't had sex that mind blowing in… Peter's not sure it's **ever** been that **good** if he's being honest. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience. Especially not... not great. He shied away from the darker memories. Though even with his friend it'd been nothing like **this**.

 

He whimpered, feeling Sam's fingers still buried inside him, keeping him full and open even as he came down from his orgasm. God Sam was… Nova was just absolutely stellar. He grinned weakly at his pun. Sam worked his fingers lazily against that little spot of goodness inside Peter. The tiny whimpers and soft noises he was making against his neck were the most beautiful sounds Sam had heard in a long, long time.

 

“Just so you know,” Sam drawled, voice rough and content, “I’m gonna keep doin’ this ‘til you tell me to stop.”

 

“Y-yeah?” Peter asked aiming for smooth and landing somewhere around fucked out of his mind instead. “Oh, oh, mmmm. And what if I-ah. What if I nnnngnever tell you to stop hmm?”

 

He knew he couldn't take much more of the agonizing pleasure, already over sensitive and trembling, but he'd hold out as long as he could just to keep feeling Sam inside of him. Sam laughed lowly, pressing tender kisses to Peter’s messy hair.

 

“I guess we’ll find out who passes out first then,” Sam sighed, teasing Peter so slowly.

 

“Guh,” was about as much as Peter could manage in response, his hips making little circles as Sam rubbed his prostate. Fuck, he was already getting hard again. As far as recharge time went something about his powers made it very **very** quick. He could probably go another few rounds, but as far as he knew all of Sam's powers came from the helmet, and he didn't want to completely exhaust the poor guy.

 

“Nggg Sam, okay, fuck okay I can't,” he whined finally, slumping fully against Sam, his arms wrapped tightly around him. He could have. He could have kept going for ages. But he didn't need Sam getting suspicious.

 

Sam pulled his fingers out of Peter’s slick ass and gave him an affectionate pat.

 

“Hmmm, thought so Big Shot,” Sam purred. Peter’s bitter, salty load had done nothing to help with his actual hunger though. If anything it just reminded him that the last time he ate was something like nine hours ago. Sam ran his still wet fingers up Peter’s spine, tracing little nonsense patterns against his pale skin.

 

“I could seriously go for something a bit more filling than jizz though,” Sam said lazily, he nuzzled again into Peter’s messy hair. “What’re you craving, Pete?”

 

Honestly the answer to that question was to be buried inside of Sam again. But the rumbling of his stomach said otherwise. He trailed his fingers along Sam's chest, idly tweaking his nipples. “Hmm what can you make me chef superstar?”

 

Sam squeaked and giggled at the tweak of his nipples. He pushed playfully at Peter and wiggled away.

 

“Whatever you want, Big Shot. Though I think sandwiches and smoothies are all I’m up for at this exact moment,” Sam said, still smiling somewhat stupidly as he looked at Peter.

 

“That sounds spectacular,” Peter admitted, smiling right back. “And then I wouldn't mind having a shower… And maybe some company in the shower too,” he giggled, feeling almost giddy. Also sticky. Ugh he really **did** need that shower.

 

Sam raked his eyes up and down Peter’s body hungrily, grin getting just a bit sharper. A boom echoed in the distance, moments before the local shelter in place sirens sounded.

 

“ _Schlag_!” Sam barked, scrambling out of bed and throwing on the cleanest clothes he could find. “ _Flark_ , sorry! Sorry, you know where the nearest shelter is? I gotta-! _Flark_ , my job, I gotta get! I can take you to-”

 

Peter grit his teeth. Whoever had the fucking **gall** to start shit while he was spending time with Sam was going to be in **serious** trouble. Very,  **very** serious trouble. He hoped no one innocent was too badly injured. Hoped Sam wouldn't be either. How strange it felt… Neurotoxin rooting for Nova.

 

“Go go, I'll be fine,” he reassured Sam, resigning himself to a lonely lunch and shower. He looked around quickly for his clothes, but only succeeded in finding his jeans. With a shrug he pulled them on, then grabbed Sam's shirt. It was too small. He was definitely going to stretch it, but it'd do.

 

Schooling his features into a look of worry he turned to Sam, striding forward to wipe a bit of cum off of his face before giving him a quick kiss, “Go. Be safe.”

 

Sam leaned into Peter’s touch, kissing him back. _Das’t_ , he’d almost run out covered in his cum. He grabbed the edge of the sheet and wiped off his face and neck. He still felt a bit tacky, but his suit should clean him up the rest of the way. Space suits were so useful, he reflected briefly.

 

“You stay safe, too. I’ll text you if I can,” Sam said, before running out the bedroom, shoving on his shoes, grabbing his bag and heading out. Peter sighed, alone in the apartment. Showering alone was going to suck now that he'd gotten his hopes up.

 

He scrubbed himself quickly, drying off and throwing Sam's shirt back on before grabbing his shirt and bag. Time to go find a nice scenic alley, change and swing on over to check things out. Then home to eat and he'd head over to one of his other commitments. Make sure everyone was okay.

 

He wrote a note before he left, putting it on Sam's fridge.

 

_Hope you're alright secret agent. I'm keeping your shirt hostage so you'll call me again_

 

_< 3 kisses, _

 

_Pete_


	6. Warning: Microfracture Detected, Immediate Maintenance Recommended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Here come I,_   
>  _Little David Doubt;_   
>  _If you don't give me money,_   
>  _I'll sweep you all out._
> 
> _Money I want,_   
>  _And money I crave;_   
>  _If you don't give me money,_   
>  _I'll sweep you all to the grave!_
> 
>  
> 
> \- Traditional English Nursery Rhyme (No Longer In Common Use), _Mother Goose’s Almanack_

Neurotoxin perched on the wall, sitting on his legs as he surveyed the dark room. He loved banks at night. So peaceful.

 

But he didn't have time to enjoy the serenity. He had a **mission**.

 

The bombing earlier hadn't damaged anything important to him, other than his hopes of a fun shower. But his visit after checking out the destruction had shown him just how badly he needed these funds. And of course that was the reason he was here. But… Well he'd be lying if he said he wasn't hoping to run into Sa- to Nova as well.

 

Man it was going to be hard to call him his hero name now that he knew his secret. At least he was pretty sure he wouldn't slip up and call him Nova in bed. Now **that'd** be awkward.

 

As stupid and contradictory to his need to get away with this crime as it was, he'd left his spider alarm jammer out more in the open than usual. He just hoped if any hero **did** show up it'd be the one he wanted to see.

 

* * *

 

“Somebody has been a busy little spider,” Nova muttered to himself as he floated outside the window, staring at Neurotoxin’s jammer. It wasn’t like him to be quite so obvious. Not until he’d finished and started having his ‘fun’ at least.

 

He briefly thought about calling in backup. His last tango with Neuro hadn’t gone his way **at all.** But he **was** still alive, and no one had died. He’d even been having a good day today. Which was ironically thanks to Neurotoxin. If he hadn’t have been sulking while waiting for Kae he’d have never met Peter. He almost wanted to rub it in Toxy's stupid, creepy masked face. But he wouldn’t put Peter in danger over his pride.

 

He flew in, scanning the ceiling and corners. Another office. _Deja vu._ He thought to himself. With any other villain he’d go straight for the gold vault and lock them in it. But Neuro was crafty, he’d probably be at the safe deposit boxes. Sam sighed as he pulled up the floor plan for the bank. His helmet flagged some architectural anomalies. He frowned as he studied the map.

 

The anomaly, more like ‘secret room’ was on the way to the safe deposit boxes. Neurotoxin had to have noticed it, he was too _das't_ smart by half to have not. Nova slunk out of the office. Well, slunk as much as he could when staying high. He did not want to run into one of Neurotoxin’s ‘presents’ under powered. Even **with** his suit powered up, it was nasty.

 

* * *

 

Neurotoxin crawled along the ceiling, following his nose.

 

Wait no, that was Toucan Sam and Froot Loops.

 

Heh. Sam.

 

Okay, so what he was really following was a hunch born of a good solid mixture of cleverness, intuition and curiosity. He'd been heading to the safe deposit boxes when he'd noticed something… Off. The dimensions of the bank to be exact. He was certain that there was supposed to be space where instead there were walls. He'd gone over the blueprints of this place enough times, that was for sure. 

 

Curious.

 

In his experience that could mean only one thing.

 

Secret rooms. Neurotoxin **loved** a good secret room. They tended to be filled with fun things! And secret rooms in a bank? Where the Richie Rich people kept their valuables? Oh boy, oh boy those were definitely worth a detour. 

 

His spider sense pinged, not hard enough to mean real trouble, but just enough to tell him he wasn't alone. He hoped whoever was coming to visit him wouldn't get in his way. Secrets were waaaay more fun than fights.

 

It felt good to pop his wrist spikes, even better to fuck up the fancy bank wall with them. He climbed cautiously through, certain there were ways to keep the contents of this room safe. He wouldn't want to get unalived before he even got to see what was inside!

 

Once in he looked around, eyes narrowed behind his mask.

 

Oh. Well then…

 

* * *

 

 

Sam’s hunch had proved right. Neuro hadn’t even bothered to find the door, the wall leading into the room had a spider sized hole in it. Sam scanned the floor, looking for 'suprises' from Neurotoxin. Nothing. He scanned the wall.

 

Well, well, well, that was certainly very interesting. His helmet couldn’t get any readings from out here. Still, he didn’t need Neurotoxin taking his head off. He dug his fingers and toes into the wall, and cut his glow, easing over to take a look inside.

 

Books.

 

Lots of books in languages Earth shouldn’t have books in. Hmmm. Neat, but hardly… oh. A charged power gem.

 

Oh,  _schlag_ bait. That little ‘toy’ there so did not belong on a backwater like Earth. It was shiny, pretty, and if Neurotoxin hadn’t noticed it yet, it was only a matter of time. It was in a fancy containment unit, but if it broke and he touched it while powered up it might just go boom.

 

This was not going to go well.

 

At all.

 

* * *

 

Neurotoxin liked books. Always had. He **especially** liked books that were hidden away in secret rooms and probably worth millions.

 

Perched again on the ceiling he flipped through one, huffing when he realized it wasn't English. Or even Earthish.

 

“If only Nova was here to read me a bedtime story,” he hummed to himself, smirking.

 

“Wow, okay. That’s not creepy at all,” Nova said from behind him.

 

Oh, _flark_. Sam thought, his stupid mouth was going to get him **killed** one day. He just knew it. He powered up and darted inside. This room had no windows, and was way, way too small for a fight with a spider.

 

“I’ve got a story for you. Once upon a time there was an annoying little spider that couldn’t keep his sticky mitts to himself,” he started. Nova was incredibly surprised that no stings or spider bombs were incoming. Neurotoxin wasn't even pushing his buttons to really get him mad. This was, in fact, a few seconds past the time for him to interrupt. Sam hadn’t planned to still be talking.

 

“And along came a Nova to lock the big bad spider up,” he finished lamely. He was almost within grabbing distance of the power gem.

 

Neuro blinked behind his mask before breaking out in a smile. So it **was** his little light bulb come to keep him company!

 

“Ooh I love this one!” He crooned, watching Sam closely. “It's the one that ends with true loves kiss right?”

 

How hadn't he found Nova’s taunts hilarious and adorable before now? Okay… well he **had** , but more in a condescending way. Now, he recognized Sam's sense of humor, and it made his heart feel fluttery. He also noted that Sam seemed to be flying veeeeery close to something pretty and dangerous looking. He got his web shooters ready just in case.

 

Nova froze, staring at Neurotoxin’s mask. He’d always been flirty, but it had never been mushy crap before now.

 

“Uhhh, what?”

 

 _Smooth. Real good job, Alexander._ He thought to himself. _Way to wow the villain into surrender with your wit._

 

“Like a noble Nova would fall for a killer of innocents!” Sam snapped, making a move for the power gem. Quick as a whip… Or maybe as a thwip… Neurotoxin webbed the pretty pretty thing out of Nova’s grip.

 

“Too slow,” Neuro cheered, hopping deeper into the room onto a book case.

 

Why did his stupid spider powers make him so _das’t_ fast? Ugh. The decorative, functional, and delicate metal containment cage fell to the floor in the rush, shattering.

 

“Innocents? Who's been killing innocents? I think you've got the wrong spider,” Neuro called out from the shadows.

 

“‘Cause none of those fuckers were even close,” he hissed, quieter, mostly to himself.

 

“They weren’t wanted criminals,” Nova said, frowning. He was between Neuro and the ‘exit’ he’d made. But he wasn’t naive enough to think the spider couldn’t make another ‘exit’ just as easily.

 

“Anyways, why should I believe you,” Sam also wasn’t naive enough to think Neurotoxin wouldn’t be able to do something nasty with that much power. Who the _flark_ left a charged power stone just laying around on a backwater like Earth?

 

It was criminally irresponsible at best. Jeeze.

 

“Dunno Spark Plug, how bout you try to write me an essay on all the reasons _not_ to believe me. Meanwhile I'll take this sparkly new toy and go play,” Nuero cackled. It did annoy him though, the idea that anyone thought the scum he killed might be innocent victims. Most of his murders went woefully under publicized while the explosions and fires and robberies took center stage.

 

 _Anyways. Back to the issue at hand_ he thought, eyeing the strange stone. If he was being honest he had no idea what he had, but Sam sure seemed to want it bad. That meant it had to be worth something right? 

 

Nova blew out a huff of air in frustration. Why couldn’t Neuro be one of those wordy, monologue-y type villains? Everything he said was just useless banter.

 

“Do you even know what you’re stealing?” he snapped, annoyed. Though now that he thought on it Neurotoxin’s MO was a bit… weird for a super villain. Especially when compared to other super villains. He actually appeared to try and avoid excess casualties. Most villains enjoyed it, or at least didn’t care. Sam frowned shaking away the doubt. He killed people, that was enough.

 

Wasn’t it?

 

Uneasily he thought of Drax and Gamora, even Quill and Master Rocket had their fair share of ‘unavoidable casualties’ from their ‘missions’.

 

“Of course I do! It's a… space thingummy! A Kree queen’s crown jewel? Ooh, ooh A Martians pet rock!” Neurotoxin peeked over the shelves, tossing a balled up piece of paper he'd found on one of the shelves at Sam.

 

“Kay, I gotta admit I lied. No idea what this thing is. How about you enlighten me Firefly?”

 

Sam didn’t bother to dodge the harmless paper ball. It bounced off his helmet and rolled under a sedan.

 

“Look. Why do you even want it if you don’t know what it is? No one on Earth is gonna buy it. You’re gonna blow yourself and half of North America up playing with that, you-” Sam growled, frustrated. It wasn't actually true that **no one** on Earth would buy it, but Neuro didn't need to know that. He'd should have called for back up earlier, but now. Now he had to prove he could handle this. If only to himself. Even if literally any other super hero could tackle the stupid spider and take the stupid power gem without a problem. But no. It had to be him that found this nest of _flarg_ eggs.

 

He could just hear the stupid lecture now. ‘Why didn’t you call for backup, Nova? We’re your team, you can trust us to watch your six.’

 

Which only reminded him of his dad’s last piece of advice before he ran off. ‘Trust no one. Not even me, Sam.’

 

He could feel his glow sharing his emotions. It turned whiter as he glowered at Neurotoxin. The flickering light reflected in his mask’s eyes just made him madder.

 

Neurotoxin frowned, looking down at the object in his hand. Sam sounded legitimately upset, and while he could be lying about the stone… he trusted him. What was the point in taking something no one would buy from him? Or worse, something someone would buy and use to hurt people who didn't deserve hurting.

 

Ugh. Why did Nova have to ruin his fun.

 

Neuro sighed loudly and dramatically. “Fiiiiiine Moonboy, I don't need something only good for exploding. I've got enough explodey things. Hows about we strike a deal instead? You let me leave with the money and rich dude loot I came here to liberate, and I'll give you your pet rock.” Neurotoxin grabbed a little piece of white cloth he kept in his pouch just for this kind of occasion and raised his hand up high, waving the white flag.

 

Sam stared at him, surprised.

 

“You know if I was an asshole space cop I could kill you and claim self defense. White means death, out there,” Nova waved up, towards outer space. He considered Neurotoxin’s offer. The bank was insured, and **he** really didn’t care about some human’s precious family jewels or whatevers.

 

Nova had much more serious matters to deal with. This Earth stuff had kept him from patrolling the quadrant like he was supposed to. The nearest sectors could be hiding Chitauri invasion fleets or, gods forbid, another Annihilation wave could be getting prepped while he dicked around on Earth keeping other people’s worthless money safe.

 

The Avengers **did** care though. He looked around the room, scanning through his HUD.

 

“But I’m not, so I won’t. Counter offer, I take all the big boom makers outta this questionably legal room and you get what’s left.”

 

It was mostly books in Xandarian, some Chitauri and Kree. Some tacky art pieces, or maybe they were classics, it was hard to tell with cosmic art unless you knew the planet it was from. A few random instruments of science that technically were harmless on their own. The furniture and another, dormant power gem. Neuro had no way to charge such a thing, though.

 

Sometimes Pete hated the Neurotoxin mask. Mostly because it hid his pout.

 

“You sure you aren't an asshole space cop, because from here…” Neurotoxin sighed, tossing the power stone from hand to hand. “Ughhh. See here's the thing My Little Lightbulb. I know nothing about space junk. And a spider like me has needs y’know? And currently those needs are money. Now I **figure** this stuff might catch me a pretty penny but I have no guarantee. See how this deal could leave me in a bit of a lurch?”

 

Neurotoxin peeked through a crack in the bookcases, watching Sam float. He was surprised he hadn't rushed him yet. Poor guy must not have liked his last sting much.

 

“Seriously? I thought you were a super villain? How can you not have found New York’s intergalactic black market yet? Please, Red, tell me I haven’t overestimated you that badly,” Sam said, unable to stop the snark. Ugh, this was why he always got in fights.

 

Huh, Peter reflected, he should have figured there would be a black market for weird space shit. His bad. But now that he knew it existed he had a lot of ways to find it.

 

“I told you, space stuff isn't my thing. But fine. Offer accepted,” Neurotoxin agreed. “See wasn't that easy? We should have nice lil' chats like this more often Space Cadet.”

 

Sam squinted at him, internally cursing his mask.

 

“Really? You’re not gonna,” Sam twisted his wrist in the way Neurotoxin did to deploy his stingers, ”me?

 

“Cause if you do I will most definitely hunt you down when I wake up and drop you off in the ‘nicest’ chitauri gulag I can find,” Sam added. The promise tasted bitter in his mouth, but it was no worse than what Master Rocket said when making deals with criminals.

 

He didn’t bother waiting for a response.

 

“Set the Power Gem on this table here,” he pointed at a _kribalk_ wood dining table, what would be a coffee table on Earth, in the West at least. “This furniture is all from off planet, by the way. No sudden movements, Red.”

 

“Ooh I always wanted space furniture! Think there's a space bar anywhere in here?” Neurotoxin asked cheerfully, webbing himself up to the ceiling to crawl over. People tended to find that more disturbing, not that Nova ever seemed to care. He huffed. Still, it felt good moving like that too. Natural. Despite how unnatural it looked.

 

He tilted his head, studying the table from a safe distance away from the floating Nova. “Dunno though. Looks an awful lot like IKEA to me. Don't tell me Swedish furniture is really from space?!”

 

He webbed a few expensive looking objects to him as collateral, attaching them to his back. For small things they were a lot heavier than he anticipated, but it was no problem for his super strength.

 

He dropped to the chaise lounge near the table. He crept cautiously closer, trusting his spider sense to warn him if Sam decided to try something.  

 

“Haha, IKEA jokes,” Sam said, as if bored. He was still scanning the room, trying to find the back up containment unit that would let him carry the active power gem. There just had to be one. Who didn't keep backups of important things like that around? He tilted his head at the massive desk near one of the walls.

 

“Really? Secret drawers? How old is this _schlag_ bait, anyways?” Sam muttered to himself as he floated over to the desk. The secret drawer was masked from his helmet, just as the room had been. The blank spot in his HUD was annoying.

 

“This can't have been smugglers,” he thought of Quill and The Milano. All of the smugglers tricks Quill had taught him, and of the ones he’d had to learn the hard way. This kind of thing was way too **obvious** for smugglers.

 

Neurotoxin frowned.

 

“Excuse me, I am feel uncomfortable when we are not about me? What's so important that you're turning your back on a **super villain** who has bad time spikey bits hmm?”

 

He put the stupid rock on the table, feeling a little bit indignantly huffy. How fucking anticlimactic. They were almost, sort of, having a moment, damn it! He'd even dropped the ‘I'm not as bad as you think’ hint earlier! And now all Sam was focused on was a stupid drawer. He had half a mind to sting him just to teach him a lesson, but he couldn't put Sam through that pain again. Instead he settled for pouting loudly and crossing his arms. He drew the line at stamping his foot though. He wasn't a **child**.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm an idiot. Look, we both know if you wanted a fight we’d already be wrecking the place,” Sam said. He turned upside down and floated lower. He clicked his tongue, “What a nasty piece of work. Some alien really did not want anyone to open this drawer.”

 

Sam pondered.

 

“Well this is a pretty **stellar** room. Anything in there has gotta be pretty **out of this world** if you know what I mean. Makes sense they'd protect it,” Neuro knew he should leave now. Take his shit and scram but…

 

“So how do we open it without getting killed to death?”

 

What? Curiosity killed the cat, not the spider. 

 

Nova snorted at Neurotoxin’s phrasing.

 

“Welllll, I was gonna just let you enjoy your boom desk. But, I suppose, conceivably, something important might be in there. Maybe,” Nova drawled. He waved Neurotoxin over.

 

“Hold me up, I gotta de-glow,” Nova said. “And don’t touch the floor, there’s pressure plates everywhere.”

 

“Someone is awfully trusting,” Neuro said, inwardly delighted. Maybe swaying Nova would be easier than he thought. “You remember I'm a bad guy right? And hey, you got a lil bit murdery too! All that talk of letting me go boom. You've got me feeling all flustered from the danger of it all!”

 

He made his way to the ceiling, crawling to just above Sam's head.

 

“Please, like you’re dumb enough to get caught in the blast. Or I’m that lucky,” Sam said, annoyed.

 

“The Avengers don’t count aliens as murder, anyways. Buncha humanocentrist bigots,” Sam grumbled, lowering himself into the best position to disarm the trap. He looked up, wiggling his feet. “Anytime this month, Toxy.”

 

Beneath his mask he grinned at the nickname, grabbing onto Sam more gently than he ever would have in the past. He couldn't help but give him a friendly little squeeze though.

 

“This I why I hate the Avengers. Bunch of fucking hypocrites,” Neuro commented.

 

Sam grunted at that. No lie he could see. People were people, no matter their species.

  
“If you drop me this place goes boom zap, just saying,” Sam said as he cut his power. His skin itched from being so close and so vulnerable to Neurotoxin. But the villain didn’t drop him, didn’t sting him. Sam's HUD was dead and he could feel how warm his hands were through his suit.

 

Sam disarmed the trap and pulled himself up, grabbing onto Neurotoxin’s shoulders and lighting them both up in his glow. Nothing went boom, hiss, or even zap. He let go of the villain and gave him some space, peering into the drawer curiously.

 

“Great,” Nova grumped, “Buncha nudie mags, ugh. What a waste.”

 

Neurotoxin blinked, surprised and, if he was honest, the tiniest bit disappointed that it wasn’t something more exciting. Still… he supposed those were exciting to **some** people. And it’d given him a moment of physical closeness with Sam as Nova where no one was getting attacked. **That** was worth it.

 

“Oh hoho, so since they aren’t gonna go boom that means they’re mine right?” Neurotoxin giggled, though his eyes remained on Nova rather than the magazines.

 

“Wait are they naked aliens?! Do I get to see long, hot, throbbing, uncensored tentacle?” Neuro asked in sudden realization, leaning down to get a better look, which just so happened to put him a touch closer to Sam as well. He wished he could share them with Sam. Sit curled together with him out of costume and giggle about them. Have Sam explain to him what bits are the naughty ones, how each species fucks. Maybe ask him about if he’s gotten up to space sex hijinks. But he can’t. Not yet. And that kind of sucks.

 

“Yeah, whatever. Probably?”

 

Nova rifled through the drawer but the magazines weren't hiding anything worthwhile.

 

“Well, I guess the spousey didn't approve of their habits,” Sam said, taking the explosives and pocketing them. He floated back to the power gem. No containment module. He searched his pockets, pulling out seemingly random things and putting them back. ‘Containment’ he thought at his dimensional pockets.

 

“Riiight. Well anyways, your weird lack of fascination with tentacle sex aside… are we done here? I’ve got a lot of stuff to take, and not much night left,” Neuro sighed, trying to sound as put upon as possible. He webbed some of the nudie mags to himself, flipping the pages and whistling.

 

Sam rolled his eyes.

 

“You've no idea how much-”

 

“Ooh, kinky?” Neurotoxin interrupted questioningly, then raised his eyebrow behind his mask at the contents of Sam’s pockets. Lace, leather, chains, rope. “Speaking of kinky, are you just like a walking talking one stop kink shop? Are we gonna get all BDSM in here? My safeword is Uranus, just so you know.”

 

“Pocket pocket dimension, perv,” Sam said, helmet hiding his blush. He hoped. He pushed the restraints back in and thought more clearly on ‘power gem containment unit’.

 

“Finally! I didn't think I’d ever find the stupid thing,” he grumped. Pulling out a little metal sphere and landing on the table. He powered down again and carefully tapped the gem into the sphere. He sealed it and put it back in his pocket.

 

“You make any booms tonight and I'll be pissed, hope there isn't a later,” Nova said, powering back up and leaving.

 

“Buh bye Sunshine! Come back and play with me again soon!” Neurotoxin singsonged after him, then set about the arduous task of emptying out the room. It was going to be a long, long night.

 

* * *

 

Sam wondered if he should call in the Avengers anyways. But space stuff **was** out of their jurisdiction. All that back in there had definitely been space stuff. And anyways, if his time with the Guardians had taught him anything it was that having criminal connections could be  **extremely** useful. He found a good spot to sit and think, but not before messaging Peter to let him know he was okay and to check up on him.

 

     _hey hope the shelter wasnt terrible sry to fuck n run u wanna meet up again?_

 

* * *

 

 

Neurotoxin fished his phone out of its pouch. He lifted his mask up off of his face, safe in one of the many places he used to store stolen valuables. He still had a few more trips to make, but he’d called in some favors from some other less than savory characters to help, and he figured he had a moment or two to spare.

 

He smiled at the text, glad it was from who he thought. Sam was cute. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy that he’d texted so soon after finishing his heroic duties.

 

 _no worries I survived <3 Glad you're okay. _ _yeah. I dunno what you were thinking but i’d kinda like to take you to the planetarium. You down for some nerdery?_

 

* * *

 

Sam smiled at the quick response. He actually hadn't been to the planetarium before. It could be fun. He replied.

   _lol ya idk what humans call lot of stuff should b fun!_

He looked up at the night sky, thinking. Then sent off another message.

    _wht time good4 u? Prolly gonna eat n nap soon so I'll be up in the morning_

He didn't want to go to Jarvis with his thoughts, or his search. Not that he didn’t **trust** Jarvis. He just didn't want to hear the whole ‘don't listen to the villains how stupid are you, kid?’ speech from the rest of his team. Sometimes, they just didn't get it. There had been more than one occasion that the Guardians had saved the galaxy and the entire dimension, because of tips from villains. When the stakes were that high, you had to consider **everything**.

He sighed and headed home. Time to set his helmet to searching Earth databases and pass out.

 


	7. He's Out of This World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Twinkle, twinkle, little star,_   
>  _How I wonder what you are!_   
>  _Up above the world so high,_   
>  _Like a diamond in the sky._
> 
> _When the blazing sun is gone,_  
>  _When he nothing shines upon,_  
>  _Then you show your little light,_  
>  _Twinkle, twinkle, all the night._
> 
> _Then the traveller in the dark_  
>  _Thanks you for your tiny sparks;_  
>  _He could not see which way to go,_  
>  _If you did not twinkle so._
> 
> _In the dark blue sky you keep,_  
>  _And often through my curtains peep,_  
>  _For you never shut your eye_  
>  _Till the sun is in the sky._
> 
> _As your bright and tiny spark_  
>  _Lights the traveller in the dark,_  
>  _Though I know not what you are,_  
>  _Twinkle, twinkle, little star._
> 
> \- The Star, Jane  & Anne Taylor _Rhymes for the Nursery_ London, 1806

Peter sat on the bench outside of the planetarium, grinning to himself as he went through the messages he and Sam had sent the night before. He'd finished stripping most of the secret room bare and had conked out after texting Sam the time and place to meet.

 

He was early for their date, and yes he's **totally** calling it a date even if it wasn't officially official. The weather was nice and it gave him time to think.

 

The past few days everything had been coming up Parker. The swing in Parker luck was… unnerving, but he wasn't one to look a gift spider in the mandibles.

 

He toyed with the hem of Sam's shirt, the one he'd stolen and ransomed for more of Sam's time. It was soft and most of all tight. Painted on tight. Like, if there was a chill he'd be nipple city tight. Which was why he was wearing a jacket. No need to get indecent until **after** they finished their date.

 

His grin got even wider and a whole lot goofier as he considered that. He shot off a text.

 

_hey Taco Dor, since benches seem like a good spot for us I'm on the one outside the planetarium,_ _see you soon?_

 

* * *

 

Sam grabbed his phone from his pocket and checked it. He smirked at the text from Peter and replied.

   _y change wht works lol on the bus c u soon_

He put his phone back and looked out the window. He shifted his bag, helmet a solid weight against his hip. He stood, thinking as he waited for his stop. He didn’t notice the next text, lost in thought.

 

* * *

 

_idk about that… Trying new things can be fun_

 

Peter chuckled, pausing for a moment before adding

 

_;)_

 

He was looking forward to having some normal people time with someone his own age. He didn't get much of that between villainy and hanging with other paparazzo.

 

* * *

 

Sam was lost in thought. Busy replaying last night’s encounter with Neurotoxin over and over. A **real** hero would **never** make a deal with a villain... right? Was he... **not** a hero?

 

He was, **technically** , an officer of the peace. But… But the Nova Empire had fallen before he’d even been made a Nova. Even if he'd finally managed to restore just a small fraction of it to some semblance of normality. Thinking on it more, he **had** kept the peace last night. No fighting meant no property damage. Not like that little hole that Neuro had made counted, really. Compared to what a battle with Neurotoxin usually left in its wake it was practically nothing. And he’d checked the crimeblotters and papers, no thefts from the bank were reported last night.

 

He pushed past the rest of the commuters, and got off at the museum slash planetarium’s stop. He stepped out of the way of the ever present press of moving people on New York sidewalks and checked his phone. He snorted at Peter’s reply and sent his own back.

 

_hehe new things can b rly fun ;p_

 

_just got off the bus on 81st brt_

 

* * *

 

Peter scanned the crowd, looking for a glimpse of Sam. It was too bad he wasn't all glowy at the moment. That'd make finding him a lot easier, especially given his height.

Finally spotted, Peter got up from the bench and practically bounded over to greet him.

“Hey! What's a cute guy like you doing in a place like this?” He asked, pressing his shoulder against Sam's.

Sam laughed at Peter’s cheesy greeting.

“I could ask you the same thing, cutie,” Sam said, then, “I can’t believe you’re stretching out my new shirt.”

But he was clearly teasing, his eyes wandering over Peter’s muscles with appreciation.

“Come on, let’s go nerd it up,” Sam said, sliding his hand around Peter’s waist and leading them to the museum slash planetarium entrance. Peter hummed in agreement, feeling warm and happy with Sam's arm around his waist.

 

“Who knows,” he said, looking at Sam from the corner of his eye. “Maybe if the stars align you can take the poor abused shirt off of me yourself later.”

Sam gave Peter’s waist a squeeze at his teasing.

They walked in, and Peter felt a rush of nostalgia. Museums had been his solace throughout his life. Whenever things were bad, and they often were. Especially when he'd been younger. He could always escape into the worlds of knowledge held within their walls. He was excited to share this part of his life with Sam.

“Which stars, what alignment? Is this more nerd stuff? I really hope you aren’t gonna quiz me on this later, that’s just mean,” Sam teased, smiling and looking around the entrance.

“Aww, c’mon you were talking a big game the other day about aliens. A few measly star systems shouldn't be a problem,” Peter chuckled back.

“Earth names for things are always so,” Sam shrugged and smiled. “Guess we need to get tickets, hang tight, Big Shot. I’ll be right back.”

Sam gave Peter’s hip a pat as he made his way to the ticket kiosk alone. A quick punch of codes later, and he had two tickets to the museum, all exhibits. He waved at Peter and made his way back to him.

“Okay, let’s go look at space stuff and see how wrong it is,” Sam said cheerfully, once again pressing up against Peter. He grabbed his hand and led them through the ticket check. Peter squeezed his hand gently and smiled. Sam was completely awful at secret IDs. It was a good thing for him that he'd decided on showing him the error of his ways.

 

“Wow you're really a gentleman aren't you? I invite you out and you pick up the check. I think I'd better keep you,” Peter grinned, leading Sam into the museum.

“Heh, well, cooking you breakfast was kinda cheating,” Sam said, blushing. No need to explain Stark made sure the Avengers could get tickets for all the New York museums for basically free.

“Delicious, delicious, cheating,” Peter said dreamily.

“Anyways, is there anything you really, really wanna see?” Peter asked, grabbing a map and handing it to Sam. “The Dark Universe exhibition is pretty awesome. And I think they're doing the Cosmic Web lecture today but I don't know if you wanna go to that.”

“Cosmic Webs?” Sam shuddered, imagining the giant cosmic spiders he’s had to fight, “Like, webs made by _ax-_ , uh, space spiders? Maybe The Dark Universe thing first.”

“Hah, no, no, it has nothing to do with space spiders. Though I'm not going to lie I'm **so** excited that those are an actual thing!” Peter said. He was gripped for a moment with the image of him as Neurotoxin riding giant spiders around New York, laughing maniacally. And another of striding into Stark Tower all cool and collected with thousands of glowing floating spiders at his beck and call. And if the little spiders looked more like little spider-Novas, it was his own imagination dammit.

 

_This is why people think we're creepy_ , his shoulder angel reminded him. _No you whiny loser, this is why people think we're fucking awesome!_ his devil said, stabbing the angel with it's pitchfork and cackling. Peter shook his head in an effort to ignore them.

 

“But, okay, my darling arachnophobe, let's go into the Heart of Darkness!” Peter cried triumphantly, eagerly leading Sam in the right direction.

“I’m not scared of them! They just, uh,” Sam foundered a moment, then finished lamely, “They’re kinda dicks.”

Peter’s eagerness was so adorable. Sam put his memories of battle out of his mind and tried to focus on the here and now.

“Spiders are dicks, huh? Sounds like you're speaking from experience,” Peter said slyly. He glanced over Sam's shoulder. Before Sam could comment, Peter was stopping in his tracks.

“Oh hey, look at that! I forgot they have a new exhibit on alien species!!” he exclaimed, all thoughts of spider dicks forgotten. “Wanna go there first instead?”

Peter bounced, actually legitimately excited at the prospect. He was sure Sam would find that section of the museum hilarious, and probably have a million stories to tell. Peter loved hearing him laugh **and** hearing him talk. Sam was adorable when he got excited talking about aliens. It made really nice things happen in Peter's chest.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Sam said, relieved for the diversion. He’d actually helped a bit with this exhibit. It wasn’t terrible, though there was a lot of stuff SHIELD wouldn’t allow the public to know. That kind of thing rubbed him the wrong way, but… Johnny hadn't seemed to mind. They'd had fun with it, when they'd both been working with the museum.

 

“Awesome! You gotta tell me all about all the different aliens we see, I'm trusting you to be my expert,” Peter said cheerfully, walking hand in hand with Sam towards the exhibit.

“Yeah, sure thing, Big Shot!” Sam said, laughing.

“Awesome! Man if you have stories about meeting any of them I'm totally dying to hear them,” Peter added, practically wiggling as they arrived in the right area. He gazed around, impressed. He always had loved this museum. They tended not to do a half-assed job, and this exhibit was no exception. They even had interactive video clips, which Peter noted, half amused, half annoyed, heavily featured a certain hot headed hero he hated. _Alliteration for the win_ , he giggled to himself.

 

Sam grinned at Peter’s enthusiasm as he looked around the exhibit. He hadn’t actually seen the completed thing. Just filmed, as Nova, a few bits for the interactive parts, and been their alien culture and anatomy expert when Doctors Storm and Richards weren’t able to make it. He'd also kept Johnny out of trouble, mostly, while Sue had been busy helping with the exhibit.

 

Peter inwardly sighed at the abundance of hero crap. God, he couldn't go **two seconds** without running into a super, or seeing their merch, or hearing their names on the news. And now they were invading his date as well. Then Peter remembered that his date actually **was** a super and was torn between laughter and a groan. There really was no escape, was there?

 

“Oh, hey, they have a thing on Nova!” Peter pointed out, pulling Sam in that direction. If he had to deal with hero shit he at least wanted to deal with the one he actually liked now.

 

“Yeah, heh, neat,” Sam rubbed the back of his head, then remembered that probably was weird so started pulling Peter, “I mean, Nova is hella awesome! Let’s check it out!”

 

Peter smirked. Oh this was going to be hilarious.

 

“Think they have any pictures that capture how outta this world his ass is?” Peter said cheerfully. Sam puffed out his chest a bit at that.

 

“Nova’s ass is pretty awesome!” Sam said, then pointed at an interactive holo display.

 

“I don’t think you can get the angle you want, but there’s that,” Sam added. That had been so boring, he’d had to stand still and then float perfectly still for their crappy Earth tech for what felt like all day.

 

“Nice! Finally a chance to touch the space booty,” Peter laughed, making the little holo-Sam spin. He secretly thrilled at the thought of doing much more than just touch it just yesterday. And maybe again later today.

 

“Hey, look! A flight simulator! You can fly like Nova,” Peter pointed out excitedly, barely taking a breath. He briefly considered reining in the enthusiasm, but it was so hard. This was the first real date he'd ever been on! Unless of course one extremely awkward movie night with a girl he'd know when he was younger counted. But thinking of her made his heart ache. Best to focus on the here and now, “We should do it!”

 

“Heh, yeah, sure! Good thing we got here early,” Sam said, tickled at how excited Peter was about it. Even though he and Johnny had been recording their game footage the same day, they never had actually raced each other in the games. Peter was pushing him at the game before he realized it.

 

“Uh, you wanna take that one or you gonna wait for me?” Sam asked, nodding his head at the game next to him. He jumped a bit as the game started and his own cheerful voice called out to him ‘ _Waetuxargeh leptNova_! Greetings Nova Recruit! Are you ready?’

 

“You kidding? This is a **race** ,” Peter informed him faux viciously. Being Johnny Storm felt blasphemous, but this was about having a good time so he'd suck it up.

 

“Loser owes the winner a massage,” he called out as The Human Torch’s obnoxious voice yelled ‘Hey Fantastifan, get ready to flame on!’

 

‘Let’s race!’ game Nova called, ‘Let’s burn it up!’ game Johnny responded. The game counted down to start and Sam had to bite back a curse as the race was on.

 

Wow, okay, this was **completely** unfair. How could he be **this** bad at **his own game**?!

 

Probably because he was **actually** trying to fly. His helmet in his bag was extremely confused and not helping in the least. His own cheerful voice calling out encouragement to the player in Xandarian and English was really, really annoying. Though not as annoying as game Johnny’s delighted winning taunts. Well. He could race the real Johnny tonight to make up for it. 

 

“Argh! These controls are terrible!” Sam snapped as he lost, huffing grumpily, “I wanted to rub you down anyways.”

 

“I dunno Sam… they didn't give **me** any trouble,” Peter teased, doing a little victory dance, “Glad you aren't a sore loser though.”

 

Peter hopped away from the game and ran his hand up Sam's arm slowly as he passed by him, “I'm looking forward to that massage.”

 

Peter lead Sam over to look at more of the Nova themed shit with a pleased smirk.

 

Sam leaned into Peter’s caress as they walked, then froze. His dad’s helmeted face stared back at him from a plaque. ‘Lost but not Forgotten’ was the header. He dimly noted that a photo of Rider was above his dad. Nova Prime hadn’t had a secret identity. But his dad had been covert ops. There was some information, probably accurate he guessed, next to his dad's picture. He had no idea how much of his dad’s stories were truth or were drunken, rambling wish fulfillment. And he'd had no idea they'd planned this. Coming face to face with his dad was like a punch in the gut. 

 

Peter glanced at Sam, confused by his sudden silence. He was surprised to see him standing stiff, his expression impossible to read. All Peter knew was it wasn't happy.

 

“Hey,” he said, sliding his hand into Sam's. “You okay?”

 

Sam gave himself a shake and swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

 

“Uh, yeah, just… a moment of silence,” Sam lied. Star-Lord talked about Rider sometimes, he sounded like he’d been good people. Gamora and even Drax shared a few stories about Rider. Sam wished he’d been able to meet him. Star-Lord never had any stories about his dad. The only Guardian that did was Rocket. And all Rocket talked about was how Sam now owed him for something his dad had done.

 

Peter frowned. Sam must have known at least one of those two Novas he figured, but how well he had no idea. Must have been close to them for this reaction though. There wasn't much Peter could say to fix this. Sam didn't know he knew his secret, and he doubted he'd want to go through the mental gymnastics of explaining his reaction without giving himself away. So instead Peter placed his hand on Sam's cheek, turning his face away from the memorial and towards him. He pressed a sweet lingering kiss to his lips and squeezed his hand.

 

Sam kissed Peter back. Secretly delighting in how pissed off his dad would’ve been at the display of affection. That was kind of hard to explain though, ‘Oh yeah, can we keep making out in front of these dead guys memorial, ‘cause one of ‘em is my dad and I think I kinda hate him.’ Absolutely **charming**. Sam Alexander, **quality** date material right here. Ugh.

 

“C’mon. Come tell me about alien dicks,” Peter said softly, nudging his forehead against Sam's. “I've always wondered if the aliens on Uranus actually had an anus.”

 

Sam snorted, corners of his lips pulling up as he tried to smile. At everything, really. Peter’s gentleness, his silly deflection of what he obviously wanted to ask. And, just a little bit of the pleasure in doing something that would upset his dad. Would have upset him.

 

“Wow, you sure know how to woo a guy,” Sam said. His tone was pure snark, and he rolled his eyes. But he gave Peter’s hand a squeeze as they moved on to the display about ‘known’ alien species.

 

“I **knew** all that anus talk would reel you in,” Peter said with a smile . He played with Sam's fingers as they looked over the images and videos on display. “So… See anybody you know?”

 

“Well, Matchstick of course, though he isn’t **really**  an alien,” Sam said as they looked at the display. Johnny was average height, so he’d been an easy example for reference. Sue was next to him in this one. It was cycling slowly through the ‘known’ species. With Thor and Sif now for Asgardians.

 

“Are we a hundred percent sure about that?” Peter snorted. “Even if he is I don't want you to tell me about his dick. The Internet and the mags I work for talk about it enough as it is.”

 

Sam laughed, a genuine one.

 

“He’ll tell you all about his dick on his own. Well, maybe not **you** ,” Sam said. Oh, right. Johnny would probably punch Peter if they actually met. The display cycled out of the Asgardians to the Chitauri.

 

“Though maybe yes, you,” Sam pondered. Johnny was a bit different. He might even thank Peter for the free publicity.

 

“No thanks. There's just one dick I'm interested in right now,” Peter cooed, his grin devious as he made eyes at Sam. Sam blushed and laughed.

 

“You’re terrible, Pete,” Sam said, punching him playfully on the shoulder and grinning. Behind them, a group of children of all ages entered. Chattering loudly in excitement.

 

“You like it, though,” Peter purred. The sound of children's voices was the only thing that kept him from saying something dirty. He did however make little circles against Sam's skin with his thumb. He was about to suggest checking out some more of the exhibit when a shrill little voice interrupted him.

 

“Petey! Guys! Guys it's Petey!”

 

Uh oh.

 

Before Peter could do anything he was mobbed by a group of children, all of the younger ones rushing together to hug him. The older and some of the younger, shier kids were hanging back Even **they** were smiling at the sight of him. And so were the three adult women accompanying them.

 

Peter laughed brightly, lifting one little girl up into his arms, mostly to keep her from getting smooshed, but also just to hear her delighted giggles. He shot an apologetic look at Sam as he yelped “Ahhhh, Sam quick get help. All these little aliens are attacking me! Oh God they're everywheeeeere!”

 

Sam laughed, pleasantly delighted. He’d loved when Kae had been this little. All bright eyed wonder and twenty million questions on the world.

 

“Oh no! If only Nova were here to save us! He’d know just what these little aliens wanted!” Sam pretended to be scared of the younger kids, flailing dramatically. A few of the children closer to Kae’s age rolled their eyes at that. Sam reached out to the Nova display in pretend distress, “Noooooooooo!”

 

Peter snorted at Sam’s antics, surprised but extremely pleased that he was playing along. And in the dorkiest way too, calling on himself to save them.

 

“Kids, c’mon. Give Peter some space to breathe,” the woman that seemed like the lead chaperone demanded, rolling her eyes at both of them.

 

“Heh. She said **space**. In a planetarium,” Peter chuckled, getting a chorus of laughter and excited babble from his flock of admirers. Sam chuckled at that, as well.

 

“Petey! Petey! Petey! We’re here for the whooooooole day,” the curly haired girl said from her perch in Peter’s arms.

 

“No way, Haley! Me too,” Peter smiled before placing her back down on the ground.

 

“It’s good to see you guys! I didn’t realize today was field trip day, Preston” Peter rubbed the back of his neck, his face heating.

 

Oh God, this was **embarrassing**. He was panicking, imagining Sam thinking he had fathered like a thousand children with these ladies. Peter shook his head, trying to will the unfounded worry away. Worse though, now Sam would see how much of a dork Peter **really** was. He couldn’t help but act far more stupid than usual around the kids. Most of them thought it was hilarious, even the older ones. Even if they mostly called him a nerd.

 

"It wasn't, but the kids saw an ad for the alien exhibit," the chaperone with pink tipped hair said with a wide fond smile. The taller chaperone with her smiled too.

 

"You know how they get about Human Torch and Nova," she put in, shaking her head.

 

"We got another anonymous donation," Preston, eyeing Peter knowingly, "We could finally afford it." 

 

Sam gave Peter’s elbow a gentle squeeze. 

 

“Hi, I’m Sam, nice to meet you guys,” Sam didn’t want to out Peter, though he’d seemed pretty chill before. They’d been around basically strangers though, “I study alien cultures with the Eff Eff and Nova.”

 

The lie was much easier now, and really it wasn’t **technically**  a lie. Technically. Sam offered her a genuine smile.

 

“I’m here all day with Pete, too, if you or any of the kids have any questions about space stuff I’d be happy to answer them.”

 

That should give Peter time with the kids. He’d seemed surprised, but pleased. Assuming no idiots tried to take over New York or rob a bank nearby, he’d have the rest of the day to spend with Peter.

 

“Thank you Sam, I’m Emily Preston,” she replied, sizing him up, “If you don't mind a thousand questions a minute I’ll just bet they'd love to take you up on that. The kids love heroes. Anything to do with them.”

 

From his spot surrounded by children Peter glanced over at Sam. He was pleased to see that Sam was doing well with Preston so far. He didn't even seem that intimidated, which was unusual.

 

“Haha, not a problem Emily! How are they supposed to learn anything if they never ask questions?” Sam said, waving his hand. 

 

Peter turned, and quickly got absorbed talking to the kids, each of them clamoring to tell him stories or ask him questions. Especially Tommy. The kid had a motor mouth to rival Peter's, and that was saying something.

 

“Oh my gawd, Petey, Petey! I wrote a new doujin you haaaaaave to read it!” Haley said, tugging at Peter’s pants and practically dancing in place. Tommy pushed her out of the way. She called back, “Rude! I’ll show you later, promise Petey!”

 

“Ugh, no way, it’s so dumb. It’s just a bunch of kissing. Pete! You gotta see my medals! They’re real medals too, not baby lame ‘thanks for trying’ medals!” Tommy said, nearly vibrating in place he was bouncing so quickly.

 

“You can show me on Tuesday when I come to visit HayHay,” Peter promised, laughing at how excited they all were to see him. “I’m sure it’s great, all your art is.” Haley stuck her tongue out at the bouncing boy. “And yo Tommy, that's amazing! High five buddy! I knew you’d be the fastest guy out there,” he bent to give him a high five, fake wincing when Tommy smacked his hand with as much strength as he could muster, “You’ll have to show me all your medals on Tuesday too.  Did you trip anyone this time?” He spared a glance for Sam, making sure he was faring okay with the overabundance of enthusiasm from the kids. Luckily he seemed safe enough, still chatting with Preston.

 

“Kids, gather ‘round. Sam here works with The Fantastic Four and Nova and offered to answer your questions about aliens and superheroes today!” Preston said once she’d gotten her charge’s attention. Peter would have to find out about the tripping thing later because Tommy was over by Sam in a flash the moment he heard the words ‘Fantastic Four and Nova.’

 

Looks like he spoke too soon. Ah, well... Peter gave a mental shrug. 

 

“Oh my gosh, you know Nova?”

 

“Yeah, we're buds!” Sam said, grinning.

 

“If you throw up in space what does it do?” a girl in a red wheelchair asked, far too excited about the prospect.

 

Sam winced as she rolled her wheels over his toes, “Ah, if you're in a space suit it gets all over you and your faceplate. It's really gross.”

 

“You know Johnny Storm?! Have you seen him flame on? Is it really cool?”

 

“Yeah, Johnny and I are besties! His fire is hot,” Sam grinned. The older kids rolled their eyes and groaned while the younger children, and Peter, giggled.

 

A brown haired little girl, wearing it in two low braids, tugged on Sam's pants leg.

 

“Do you and Johnny race cars?” she asked softly, hiding behind her hair.

 

“Heh, sometimes,” Sam said, smiling a bit softer at her.

 

“Are there any pink aliens?” another girl, this one around eight or so, asked him. Much more outgoing than the girl still clinging to his pants.

 

“Oh yeah, Krylorians are pink! They’re **pretty** , pretty cool,” Sam's grin got just a tad dopey for a moment, lost in memories, then he nodded at the exhibit nearby, “I think there's even a bit about them here!”

 

“Do you and Johnny,” Haley blurted, then ‘whispered’ loudly, “hold hands?!”

 

Peter bit back a laugh. Of course Haley would ask that question.

 

“Don’t be dumb, boys are gross! Sam, Sam! Have you seen Nova without his helmet? Is he really an alien too?” Tommy said loudly.

 

Sam laughed good naturedly at their banter and questions.

 

“Boys **are** gross, but Torch and Nova **have** been known to hold hands,” Sam giggled at that. Then very solemnly continued, “I'm not allowed to talk about what Nova really looks like. It's a secret ‘cause he’s a Super Nova. That’s the Nova special ops like America’s Navy Seals. It’d be dangerous if the bad aliens knew what he looked like.”

 

The kids nodded and ‘oh'd' at that.

 

“I knew it, he's a alien,” Tommy said decisively. Sam chuckled at that.

 

“Is replicator food kosher?” a girl wearing a lightning pendant asked.

 

“I dunno,” Sam shrugged, “maybe if it's made for Earth. Probably not out in the rest of the galaxy, but whatever it is, it sure tastes terribad, that's for sure.”

 

“One time I saw Nova and Johnny racing in the **sky**!” Tommy said, wide eyed.

 

“Nuh-uh, **I** saw Johnny and Nova racing in the sky!”

 

“Tommy, Haley, you can both have seen them racing in the sky,” the shorter, pink haired assistant said patiently.

 

“They do it often enough, those show offs,” Peter put in.

 

“True enough,” Sam shrugged at that. He and Johnny **did** race a lot.

 

“Oh! Oh! One time! One time I saw an alien! It was green!” Haley blurted.

  
“Nuh-uh! You did not!” Tommy cried.

 

“I did too!” Haley stamped her food, glowering at the other child.

 

“That was just The Hulk! He's not an alien, he’s a monster. Duh!” 

 

“It was not The Hulk! It was an alien!” Haley defended.

 

“Hey hey guys! There **are** green aliens! Lots of different kinds too!” Sam said, trying to head off a fight. “I think there may be a few species in the exhibit, even!”

 

“Ohh, let’s go look, I’ll show you they’re real!”

 

“Yeah, I bet it was still The Hulk though,” Tommy sassed back.

 

The two rivals and their friends ran to the Alien Cultures display. The shy girl stayed clinging to Sam’s leg. A few of the older kids stayed behind, trying to look aloof and ‘too cool’ for ‘kid stuff’. The taller chaperone followed them hurriedly. Pushing her glasses back up as she hurried after. Peter laughed when Sam finally had half a second to breathe. Peter had clearly been abandoned by his hoard for someone ‘cooler’.

 

“Having fun Sam?” he asked cheerfully. “Maybe I’ll meet you back here in a few hours, once the Q and A is over.”

 

“Space and supers **are** pretty awesome! How could that be boring?” Sam laughed at Peter’s teasing.

 

“Don't go Petey!” the little girl still clinging to Sam's leg cried out, distress clear in her voice. She clung even tighter to Sam’s leg, looking pitifully up at Peter. Peter smiled at her, his chest full of affection.

 

“It's okay Klara, I'm not **really** going yet. I was just teasing Sam.”

 

“I don’t like teasing,” Klara said, hiding her face against Sam’s leg.

 

“Hey there Klara, Petey Pie wasn’t teasing mean like, sometimes people tease people they like. I’m not mad,” Sam said, putting his hand to her back comfortingly.

 

“Sam's right. I like him a lot,” Peter said warmly, smiling at them both. Sam was adorable with Klara clinging to him, and from the way he'd answered their questions it was clear he was good with kids, “Does anyone else have anything they wanna say to Sam about aliens?”

 

“Yeah!” one of the teen girls said, a gleam in her eye, “On the Internet I saw this thing where an alien took it's tentacles and-”

 

Sam blanched and said hurriedly, “Don’t believe everything you see on the internet!”

 

“Welp! That's enough for question time everyone! Rhonda, no more questions from you, thank you!” Peter squeaked. She grinned at him and he glared, shaking his head no.

 

“Mr. Prast used to watch that before he got burned up by spiders. He showed me,” a small voice cut in. Peter frowned, overcome yet again with the urge to protect Klara. To protect **all** of them. He'd done what he could already, but it never, **ever** seemed like enough. Sam felt a flash of protective, helpless rage at what that implied. But, that wasn’t helpful now. He schooled his expression into something more friendly and open than his churning emotions reflected. Burned by spiders…

 

Neurotoxin had seemed barely human when he’d hissed about his victim's lack of innocence. But surely they would have been registered in the sex offender database, or, or **something**?

 

“Hey, guys, you know what we should do now that question time ’s over? Spaceship rides!” Peter said quickly. He leaned down, scooping Klara up and swinging her around. She shrieked happily.

 

“Nyoooom pew pew pew,” Peter provided what he was sure was a completely accurate space soundtrack as the younger kids gathered around him again, excited at the prospect of being swung around until they puked. Sam smiled softly at Peter’s antics. He could worry about **that** later. 

 

“Speaking of spaceships,” Sam said, turning to the older kids, “There’s some flight simulators for SHIELD spacecraft somewhere in this exhibit. Unless flying rocket ships is too cool for you guys?”

 

“No way, I totally kick a- butt at flight sims,” one of the kids said with a wary glance at Preston.

 

Peter laughed, “Nice save.”

 

With a glance at Sam he grinned and continued.

 

“Anyways you guys I gotta go,” Peter raised his voice so the younger kids off in the exhibit could hear him, too. A chorus of protests sounded at that.

 

“Awww, don’t go Petey!”

 

“So soon? But we just got here!”

 

“Stay Petey, stay!”

 

“Pleeaaasseeeee?”

 

“Sorry I have to go, guys! I'm on a date,” Peter chuckled, slipping his hand into Sam's. Haley’s sudden shriek of excitement made him shake his head. But Sam was practically beaming at him as he gave his hand a squeeze.

 

“I'll be in to see you all on Tuesday, I promise,” Peter said as the kids all began to yell things at him at once.

 

“Petey when did you get a boyfriend!?”

 

“Boys are so gross though!”

 

“No we aren't!”

 

“Do you guys kiss?”

 

Sam tugged at Peter’s arm and gave him a chaste, loud kiss on his cheek.

 

“Ew! Kissing is gross! You get cooties!”

 

“Why didn't you tell us you had a boyfriend Petey?!”

 

“Can't you **and** Sam stay?”

 

“Tuesday guys! I'll tell you all about it on Tuesday,” Peter promised, laughing. He gave Sam's hand a squeeze. Clearly he needed to be ready to get grilled about his love life. Even the older kids were whispering to each other and grinning. Yikes.

 

“It was good to see you Peter,” Preston said, the two other chaperones rushed to tug Haley and Tommy apart. Peter hadn't even noticed them fighting. The sight was far too common to faze him anymore. Preston was equally unfazed, not even sparing them a look.

 

“It was good to meet you Sam. Feel free to come along with your boyfriend any time, as long as you've had your police check. The kids love you,” Preston added, her tone and the look she gave Peter making it clear that **she'd** be grilling him about Sam too. Great.

 

“Anytime, Emily. Maybe I can arrange a **super**  fun visit for the kids with you? Peter has my number, call me and we can figure out what’s good,” Sam said, smiling. He waved at the kids and called out a bit louder, “Have fun everyone! Be good!”

 

A chorus of goodbyes followed them as they left. Peter smiled apologetically. “So **that** happened. Sorry I didn't know they'd all be here, I hope that was alright?”

 

He really **hadn't** known, either. Nothing in his plans to show Sam who he really was had called for **that**. Sam seemed like too much of a sweetheart to complain, he hoped he really hadn't minded.

 

“Why’re you apologizing? I love kids!” Sam said, hanging onto Peter’s arm and snuggling up against his side, “They obvs love you. It was adorable and fun!”

 

Sam hummed happily. Peter had called him his **boyfriend** in front of people he **clearly** cared about. It was such a great change from the other human guys he’d ‘dated’ (more like hooked up with, really). Did this mean Peter wanted to do **more** than fuck? Well, okay, **obviously** he did they’re at the Planetarium right now. But…

 

Maybe he should thank Neuro for kicking his _axt_ the other night. He’d have never met Peter if it hadn’t been for him. This sweet, adorable nerd was both a good fuck **and** great with kids? Sam felt his stomach flip as he thought about bringing Peter home to Mom and Kae.

 

“Heh, well the older ones think I'm a loser, but they secretly like me too,” Peter said, feeling bashful. “Uh… I hope it was cool that they were calling you my boyfriend? I know we haven't talked about it but, I'm definitely not opposed to that. Like at all.”

 

Sam buried his face against Peter’s chest as they walked. Being actually **dating** was most definitely a **good** thing. When he was finally sure he’d sound like the mature adult he was and not the sixteen year old mess he felt like inside, Sam looked up at Peter and said, “I’d really like it, like a lot, if you wanna actually, officially date. I, uh, I,” Sam stumbled, his job was dangerous, Peter could get hurt if any villain found out. Not to mention the odd hours he kept, instead he said, “I think you’re awesome.”

 

Plenty of time to worry about **that** later, too.

 

Peter blushed to the tips of his ears. Oh God, what was he doing. This could all go up in flames any second, and Peter had learned the hard way that getting attached was a bad plan. Still he felt like he was floating on air, like the whole world had narrowed down to Sam's hand in his and his adorably happy expression.

 

“Yeah. Yeah I think you're pretty alright, too,” Peter stopped suddenly, pulling Sam out of the way of the sparse crowd. He leaned in, pressing a sweet kiss to Sam's lips. And then another. And one more for luck, “And hey, uh, if you wanna come with me to visit the kids on Tuesday, that'd be great. It's um, it's an orphanage though, so Preston really wasn't lying about that police check.”

 

Sam grinned stupidly up at Peter, oblivious to everything except his warmth. His cute blushing face. His worried and hopeful blue eyes.

 

“That’d be awesome, Pete,” Sam sighed. Happy, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring my papers. I’m pretty sure I’ll pass it.”

 

He made a mental note to get with the Eff Eff and Stark and make a **real** cover for his civilian self.

 

“Now, you ready to brave the dark depths of space with me?” Sam asked, pulling Peter back along to the Dark Universe exhibit.

 

“As long as you promise to hold me if I get scared,” Peter laughed. Yeah, Sam was amazing. Now he just had to get to work on swaying Nova on Neurotoxin.

 


	8. Effleurage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _How many special people change_   
>  _How many lives are living strange_   
>  _Where were you while we were getting high?_   
>  _Slowly walking down the hall_   
>  _Faster than a cannon ball_   
>  _Where were you while we were getting high?_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Some day you will find me_  
>  _Caught beneath the landslide_  
>  _In a champagne supernova in the sky_  
>  _Some day you will find me_  
>  _Caught beneath the landslide_  
>  _In a champagne supernova_  
>  _A champagne supernova in the sky_
> 
>  
> 
> \- Champagne Supernova, Oasis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: So much fucking

Sam pulled Peter into the elevator to his place, taking care to push the button for twelve instead of thirteen. Souviner filled bags rustling in their hands.

 

“Seriously what happens if you push thirteen?” Peter asked, pulling Sam into a one armed hug.

 

“Ugh, it gets stuck and takes forever for anyone to come fix it,” Sam groaned. “It blows, totally violating city ordinances and I’m pretty sure at least one state law.”

 

Sam shrugged against Peter. He was so warm, it was great. Sam was so, so cold without his helmet.

 

“But what’re’ya gonna do? It’s New York,” he said, almost philosophic about it. Though really it galled him that he couldn't do a thing to get the safety hazard fixed.

 

Peter laughed and squeezed Sam's waist, “You said it. Though getting stuck in an elevator with **you** might not be so bad."

 

Peter chuckled as he gave Sam a knowing look. Sam grinned back, waggling his eyebrows, “I could definitely think up ways we could pass the time.”

 

Glancing around the elevator Peter raised an eyebrow, “Yeah? Hmm I don’t know about you but with the way **I** play charades this little elevator definitely ain’t big enough. I’m very flaily,” he confided, then grinned widely at Sam, “That **was** what you meant right?”

 

Sam laughed, giving him a playful thwap on his chest, “Yeah, totally, charades."

 

Peter eyed Sam up with a sly smile, “Hmm okay, let's play. Try to guess what this one is."

 

Peter stalked forward, crowding Sam back against the wall, hands settling on his hips. Pressed together like this Sam could feel the hard line of his body, the warm puff of air as Peter brought his lips in close, but not quite close enough to touch.

 

The doors opened on seven and an elderly woman stepped in. Peter jumped away from Sam immediately.

 

“Um, hello! Hi Ma’am! Lovely day isn’t it? Ahem,” Peter tried to sound chipper even as his face turned maroon from embarrassment, “It’s uh… don’t press floor thirteen! Haha!”

 

“Peter, calm down. Mrs. Camacho, this is Peter. Peter, Mrs. Camacho,” Sam said.

 

“Hmph, do you like bridge, Pedro?” she said. It was unclear if she hadn’t heard Sam clearly or if she didn’t care enough to get Peter's name right.

 

“I, uh... Yes? I mean my aunt taught me but it’s been a few years,” Peter said, his face still red. More than a few years, really. Nearly six since that terrible night. But the twinge of guilt and pain that came with the reminders of his failures was too old and worn to stop his embarrassment.

 

Oh God the old lady who walked in on him practically on top of Sam was making small talk. What was his life?

 

“Hmm, _beuno_. Try to keep this one longer than a week, Samuel,” she said, frowning at Sam, “And your zucchini muffins had too much honey in them. My grandkid loved them.”

 

“Ah, hah, yeah, I’ll try. Sorry about the muffins, I’ll be sure to make two batches next time,” Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“Nice to meet you,” Peter called after her as she shuffled out of the elevator on her floor, before glancing at Sam, “This one huh? For longer than a week?" 

 

Sam spread his hands helplessly before him and tried to smile appeasingly at him. Though Peter's smile was huge and teasing.

 

“What can I say? I can’t shut up, and work weird hours,” Sam said with a shrug. The doors opened with a rather lackluster ding. Sam pushed the stuck outer door aside and gestured grandly for Peter to enter the twelfth floor hallway. Peter ran his fingers along Sam’s hip as he stepped past him out the door.

 

“Mmm, I like how much you talk. I think you might be stuck with me,” Peter said, only wincing slightly at the screeching noise the elevator doors made as they closed.

 

Sam laughed, trying to cover the flutter of emotion flooding through him at Peter’s gentle touch and teasing words.

 

The trip up the stairs and down the hall to his door was both too long and too fast. Sam was all too eager to get started on his 'punishment' of rubbing Peter. He unlocked the door and gestured for Peter to enter.

 

“So, what kind of rubs did you have in mind?” Sam asked as he came in after Peter, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into the pile by the door. He slid the deadbolt closed with a click. Peter grabbed his souvenir bag and sat them together on a clean spot on the bar.

 

“Mmmmmm, I’m thinking a niiiiiice long massage,” Peter said, kicking off his own shoes and stretching. The tight material of Sam’s too small shirt stretched tight against his chest, and a small strip of skin showed at his stomach. “Yeah, your hands all over my body sounds real nice right now.”

 

Sam grinned reaching for Peter’s exposed abs.

 

“Man, like, rubbing you, and touching you, allll over,” Sam sighed, “Absolute torture.

 

"So cruel!” he added, running his hands up Peter’s chest.

 

“Now stop stretching my shirt and strip!” Sam teasingly ordered. He pulled off his own shirt and swaggered back to his bedroom.

 

“Demanding!” Peter laughed, following Sam into his room, “I thought **I** was the winner of our little bet. Not that I’m complaining,” he added quickly, slipping Sam’s shirt off and tossing it at him, “I kinda like it when you take charge.”

 

Sam caught his shirt with a laugh.

 

“Oh really?” Sam murmured with a wicked grin as he stripped off his pants. Leaving on his boxers for the time being, “So you want a proper massage? I have some massage oil somewhere around here, probably.”

 

“I’d **kill** for a proper massage,” Peter agreed happily, already feeling tingly with anticipation, “You want me on the bed?”

 

Sam interrupted his search for massage oil with a leer in Peter’s direction, “Boy, do I! Grab a couple of towels first, though. Don’t wanna sleep on oily sheets.”

 

“Will do boss. They in here?” Peter asked, checking out a likely closet as he wiggled out of his pants, “We haven't been boyfriends long enough for me to figure out where you hide all your stuff.”

 

Peter laughed, savoring the word **boyfriend**. It's good, the feeling he gets as it leaves his mouth. Sam, **Nova** , being his boyfriend. 

 

Sam grinned at hearing Peter again call him his **boyfriend**. It felt **good**.

 

Peter had, indeed, found the towels so Sam didn't bother responding to the question.

  

“Ah hah! Found it!” Sam said, grabbing the bottle and holding it up triumphantly.

 

“And I found the towels! Looks like we've got the makings of a party doesn't it,” Peter grinned as he shook the towels at Sam cheerfully. He spread them onto the bed, then hesitated before shrugging and pulling off his boxers. Naked, he stretched out on his stomach on the towels, hoping Sam couldn't see the red of his blush on the back of his neck or tips of his ears.

 

Sam stopped to admire the sight before him. Peter’s toned, naked body laid out on his bed. The sight of his scars, across his back and ass and thighs, made him want to beat whoever did that to him. He shook the thought off. Now wasn’t the time.

 

“Mmm, the best kinda party,” Sam agreed, climbing into bed and straddling Peter's naked hips. He squirted some massage oil into his palms and rubbed them together to warm it up. Peter’s ears and the back of his neck was flushed. It was precious. Sam pressed his hands into Peter’s lower back and rubbed up to his shoulders.

 

“You’re _fl_ -fucking tense, Pete!” Sam said, surprised.

 

“Yeah, lotta stress,” was Peter's lazy reply, “That felt nice.”

 

“Don’t worry, I”ll get you nice and loose,” Sam promised, kneading out the tension from Peter’s neck. His muscles were tense and unyielding. Sam was determined to have him loose and relaxed when this was all over. Peter groaned happily, letting go of his tension bit by bit as Sam's hands worked his shoulders.

 

“You talk a big game," Peter teased, focusing on nothing else but the feeling of Sam's hands on his body.

 

“When **haven’t** I come through for you, Big Shot?” Sam said, smug. Peter’s shoulders were still tense, but the rest of him was wound even tighter. He moved on to the back of his neck. Working his muscles with his hands, driving the tension away.

 

After a few minutes he moved down his back again, working at the muscles across his ribs and sides.

 

“How did you even **get** these muscles all tense? Do you have a partner at the gym? They need to spot you better!” Sam said, a bit worried Peter was straining himself during his workouts.

 

 _Oops,_  Peter hadn't thought this through. Of course he was going to have muscle tension in muscles normal people rarely used. Web swinging wasn't exactly offered at the Y.

 

“Heh. I've been known to occasionally over do it. Like once, or twice, or every single time,” he laughed sheepishly.

 

“Peter! You could really hurt yourself! Do you need a spotter? I can spot for you, and if not me, I know plenty of guys, and gals, strong enough,” Sam said, alarmed now. His hands and fingers were still diligently working out the knots in Peter’s muscles. Peter smiled. Sam was adorable trying to look out for him.

 

“I'm fine Sam. I'm careful I promise. But sometime maybe we could work out together. And I'm **definitely** hiring you as my official masseuse,” he purred, them moaned as the heel of Sam's hand dug into a particularly sensitive area, “Mmm yeah, right there.”

 

“If you say so, Big Shot,” Sam conceded. He worked that stubborn tightness a bit longer, before moving down to his lower back.

 

“You're good at this,” Peter hummed, “Could stand to be a little more handsy though.”

 

Sam laughed, slapping Peter’s ass. That earned him a yelp and a quickly suppressed flinch. 

 

But Peter was surprised to find himself giggling as well. He normally didn't like being hit, but the teasing way Sam had done it felt nice. **Fun**. It didn't set his spidey sense ringing. He trusted him.

 

“You are way too tense, I dunno if even sexy fun times is gonna relax these poor abused muscles,” Sam said teasingly. He changed positions, still straddling Peter’s body but facing his feet. He moved his hands from his lower back to his ass, working on the muscles there.

 

“Yeah but what kind of masseuse would you be if you didn't try **every** technique,” he laughed. Sam's rubbing felt so, so nice. Peter was getting hard from it already. He wiggled his ass as best he could with Sam sitting on him and grinned against the sheets.

 

Sam gave his ass another teasing slap. Then moved down to his thighs. Peter didn't flinch at all that time.

 

Sam rubbed and kneaded his muscles thoroughly. Peter’s happy little moans, not to mention amazing body, had him already hard. His cock was straining at the button of his boxers, eager for release. He let his erection grind against Peter’s ass as he leaned lower to rub his calves.

 

“Mmm is that some kinda fancy massage tool in your pants or are you just glad to see me?” Peter sighed out. Sam rutting against him sent a pleasant shiver all through him. He slanted his hips a little, pushing his ass back against the hard line of Sam's erection and getting some delicious friction in return as his cock brushed against the towel on the bed.

 

“Heh, I can do **some** kinda massage with it. Though I **am** really happy to see you, too,” Sam said, pleased at how much more relaxed already Peter was. He grabbed Peter’s ankle and pulled his leg back, rubbing at his ankle and foot.

 

Peter jerked in Sam's grip with a bleat of surprised laughter. He wiggled and the movement made him grind back hard against Sam's cock, “Fuck.”

 

Sam laughed as Peter giggled and wiggled himself into his cock.

 

“Someone is ticklish,” Sam sing songed, though he tried to increase the pressure from his fingers to keep rubbing the stress away. **Without** tickling. He thought it was very adult of him.

 

“I have no idea what you mean,” Peter said lightly. “I just wanted an excuse to do **this** _._ ” He arched, working his ass against Sam with a smirk. Sam moaned as Peter ground into him.

 

“Villain,” Sam accused, a bit breathily, “trying to stop me from giving my boyfriend a rub down.”

 

Sam leaned over Peter as he lowered his leg and reached for his other foot. Peter’s motions were straining his boxer's sad little button.

 

“From the feel of it I think my dastardly plan might work,” Peter said through a moan. It felt too nice, rutting together and getting a massage at the same time. The only thing that'd make it any better would be- “you should take those boxers off.”

 

“Mmm, I should, shouldn’t I?” Sam fake pondered aloud. Finished, he again leaned over Peter to lower his foot back against his towel covered bed.

 

Peter grunted in frustration. “Who's the villain again?” He asked, rolling his body in an absolutely filthy way. He moved like he was being fucked, trying to get Sam's clothed cock between his cheeks.

 

“Come on, come on. Time for another kind of massage,” he moaned wantonly. Sam’s boxer’s just could not take the strain, and his dick escaped it’s cottony confines. Button bouncing away with a twang.

 

“Ah!” Sam gasped, naked cock sliding into the cleft of Peter’s ass.

 

“Did that just-?” Peter turned his head to look and got a very nice view of Sam's ass. “Oh my fucking…” he buried his face in the pillow as he started to laugh, his whole body shaking with it.

 

“My favorite boxers,” Sam groaned pitifully. He aimed a harmless play slap at Peter.

 

“You monster! You made me break my boxeeerrrrrsss,” Sam whined.

 

“Hey! It’s not my fault your dick went all Hulk,” Peter snickered, using their position to roll his hips again and rub the dick in question between his cheeks. The feeling of it sliding over his hole made him moan quietly as he kept working his hips over and over.

 

“ _Flark_ , are you **trying** to kill me?” Sam groaned. Peter’s cheeks were firm and hot, skin soft and slick with massage oil. Peter groaned back.

 

“If you die right now I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you,” Peter laughed, clenching just to hear Sam make a sound, “Mmm fuck Sam. You feel so good. I’m so fucking spoiled.”

 

Sam made soft little noises as Peter clenched his cheeks around his dick.

 

“You're… **you're** spoiled? Gods your ass is amazing,” Sam gasped out. He rutted against him, delighting in the friction. The feel of Peter's cheeks clenching around his dick was glorious.

 

Peter was already breathing heavily and his hands were fisted in the towels beneath him. **Fuck** Sam’s dick was so hard, sliding so slick and easily, teasing his hole with each pass. He needed to be filled. **Now**.

 

“Yeah? Mmm how about you massage it a little more then huh? Really loosen me up,” he breathed out as he bit down on his lip. He clenched and unclenched, working Sam’s cock with his muscles.

 

“You're the,” Sam gasped, “the racing champ. You just,” a whine, “tell me what you want.”

 

“Want your fingers in me,” was the breathy reply. Peter was growing more boneless by the minute. Things with Sam were so… Nice. So **fun**. Peter wanted more.

 

“Yessir!” Sam teased, scrambling to open the nightstand drawer and get the lube. Eager to get Peter slick and ready.

 

“Heh. Now **this** is good service,” Peter replied, wiggling to try to get more comfortable.

 

Sam wiped his massage oil coated fingers off on the towel and squirted lube onto them. He snapped shut and tossed aside the bottle, massaging Peter’s ass with his other hand as he warmed up the lube.

 

“C’mon Sam,” Peter whined, lifting his ass up as much as he could. It was an appealing sight, slick from the oil and still a little bit pink in the spot Sam had slapped earlier.

 

“I was tryin’ to be nice and warm this up, but you’re the boss,” Sam said, a bit too turned on to sound amused. He spread Peter’s cheeks and brought lube slick fingers to his puckered hole. He teased the sensitive skin around Peter’s entrance, rubbing gently at his hole. While Peter **had** said finger **s** , Sam started with one.

 

He pressed his finger past the tight ring of Peter’s ass. Peter’s frustrated moan and eager rocking back was so hot, so exciting. He wanted to making him beg again, he sounded so **sweet** pleading with him for more. But Peter **had** won the bet, not that it really mattered. Sam was all to happy to learn **all** about what Peter wanted.

 

Sam pressed a second, lubed finger into Peter. His own cock twitching with his excitement as Peter fucked himself on his fingers.

 

“Sam,” Peter moaned lowly. The way he was rocking his hips ground his erection against the bed and drove Sam's fingers deeper with each movement.

 

“Mmm Sam. God I hope this is as good for you as it is for me. Cause fuck your fingers feel ama-ah mmm... amazing,” Peter wiggled, trying to turn as much as he could so he could see Sam. He didn't like not being able to see.

 

“I need more. I wanna be full. Mmm, yeah. Yeah, fuck, want you to work my ass with your perfect fingers until I'm a mess and then f-fuck me.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, _fl_ -fuck you’re gorgeous,” Sam groaned. He spread his fingers, stretching Peter. He was ready. He pressed a third finger inside him, then curled his fingers and sought out his prostate.

 

“I’ll fill you up, Pete. I’ll ruin you. Fuck you with my fingers until you’re begging for my cock,” Sam growled. He curled and flexed his fingers across Peter’s prostate, then pulled back.

 

"N-not ruin. This is good. So good," Peter whined as Sam's fingers moved away from that sweet spot inside of him. He tried to wriggle backwards, trying to get Sam's fingers back inside of him before he even realized he was moving.

 

“You're the boss," Sam said, striking 'ruin' off the list of sexy words for Peter.

 

"Gonna finger fuck you ‘till you beg,” Sam said, pushing his pinkie inside the tight ring of his entrance. Gods Peter was so perfect. He thrust his fingers almost lazily into Peter, letting him fuck him at his own pace for a bit.

 

Through the pleasure Peter frowned. He didn't like looking at the bed for this. He needed to see Sam's face. 

 

“Yes,” he agreed wholeheartedly, “Yes, okay. But I want to see you.”

 

“Whatever you want, Pete,” Sam said, pulling his fingers out and sitting next to him, “Just tell me what to do.”

 

Sam reached for his aching cock, but hesitated. Peter hadn’t told him to touch himself yet.

 

“Wanna make you happy,” Sam whispered.

 

Peter wasted no time moving up onto his knees facing Sam. He took a moment to just take in the sight of him, before he leaned forward to kiss him deeply. His fingers curled around Sam's cock, pumping slowly as they kissed.

 

“You do make me happy,” he said quietly. His thumb circled the head of Sam's cock in reverent circles.

 

Sam grinned against his kisses.

 

“Good, ‘m glad,” Sam said. He reached for Peter’s ass, gently sliding his still slick fingers into him one at a time.

 

“Holy-” Peter gasped, shuddering as Sam's fingers pressed back up into him, “Oh, oh, oh,” he kept up a litany of soft sounds as he rocked back, riding Sam's fingers.

 

Sam kissed Peter’s throat, moving his fingers in rhythm with Peter’s pace. His other hand rubbed teasingly at the perfect globe of Peter’s cheeks. Stretching him and teasing him while he fucked his hole with the fingers of his other hand.

 

“Ah, hah, yeah just like that,” Peter panted as he tilted his head back to give Sam room for his kisses, “Gonna be so ready for you,” Peter let his fingers wander, digging his nails into Sam's hips at a particularly good thrust.

 

Sam moaned as Peter’s nails dug into his hips. It felt good, **possessive**. He wanted desperately to be Peter’s. To make him happy enough that’d he’d come back for more. His cock ached to be buried inside his perfect ass. But Peter hadn’t told him to fuck him yet.

 

So he kept thrusting his fingers in him, curling them to find his prostate and spreading them out to stretch his hole, only to repeat the tight curl against his oh so sweet spot. Peter let himself get lost in the push and pull of Sam’s fingers. The swells of pleasure as he teased and stretched him and made him moan.

 

“I- I want. Need. Mmmm Sam please, please, yeah, yeah, fuck me. Want you to fuck me,” he whined out, once again gripping Sam’s cock. He kept his fist tight, moving it so, so slowly up and down the hard length as he leaned in to bite down at the spot between Sam’s neck and shoulders.

 

Sam shuddered and moaned at Peter’s sweet voice and sure grip. He moved his hand teasing the firm muscles of Peter’s glutes to grope at the lube bottle.

 

“Soon as I get ready for you I’ll fuck you just how you want, Pete,” Sam promised. Sam finally found the lube and squirted some onto his dick. He flipped it closed and tossed it away.

 

“Ah! Ah fuck, Pete, yeah,” Sam moaned as Peter spread the lube along his length. Still fucking himself on his fingers even while he prepped his cock. Peter was moaning with almost every breath now, and his cock was leaking precum.

 

“You're ready,” Peter said, desperate, “I'm ready. I need you inside me now.”

 

He kissed Sam again, and sucked on his tongue. His arms were looped around Sam's shoulders and despite the urgency he felt he kissed him like he never ever wanted to stop. Sam was only too happy to oblige, pulling his fingers out of Peter so he could steady his cock. Then Peter was dropping down onto him. Stretched and prepped from Sam’s fingers, he took him in his ass easily.

 

“Yes! _Yayat_! _Fl_ -fuck, you’re so hot, so tight, so perfect,” Sam moaned between sweet, hungry kisses. Sam kept his hips still, waiting to follow Peter’s lead. Peter settled fully on Sam's lap, breathing hard.

 

“Fuck Sam. You feel so good," Peter confessed as he slowly rocked his hips, relishing the fullness, “God, you feel so perfect."

 

Sam moaned wordless agreement. Peter felt so _das’t_ good. He kissed Peter's neck, his balls aching. Peter seemed content to work his dick with his inner muscles and kiss on him. It was torture of the best kind. Peter grinned into their kisses, lifting his hips just barely before rocking them back down. Keeping the full length of Sam's cock deep inside him, “You wanna fuck me?”

 

Peter ran his nails down Sam's back and rocked his hips again, purring “Wanna fuck my ass until I cum all over your chest? Until you spill inside of me?”

 

“Yes, yes. _Ffff_ -fuck yes,” Sam moaned, hanging onto Peter’s hips as he slowly ground into him. His short, rocking motions were not enough. Sam needed **more**. But Peter had only asked if he **wanted** to fuck him, not told him to do it. So he shivered and whined, sucking at Peter’s collar bone. Desperately waiting for orders. The smirk on Peter's face was downright wicked as he wiggled his hips happily at the response.

 

“Yeah?” Peter said thoughtfully.

 

“Yes!” Sam agreed fervently.

 

“How much do you want it?” Peter wiggled again and worked Sam's cock more intently, clenching and unclenching as he did his level best to drive him absolutely crazy. It was succeeding, too. Sam groaned, clinging to Peter’s hips like he was his lifeline. **How much?** What kind of gods dammed question was that?

 

“Wanna fuck you,” Sam managed.

 

“Hmm yes, we’ve been over that one,” Peter drawled, rocking slow and working Sam with his ass. His own cock rubbed between them, smearing Sam with his precum.

 

“Please! Wanna make you cum!” Sam gasped.

 

“How much do you want to make me cum, Sam?” Peter purred, giving his hips another wiggle. Sam made a pitiful, strangled sound as Peter demanded an answer.

 

“Anything. Everything. Whatever you want, I want it. Please! Please, please, please,” Sam gasped, his soft chant of ‘please’ seeming to ground him as he peppered Peter’s chest with desperate kisses.

 

“That much huh?” Peter chuckled. He finally rose up, grinding into Sam's cock and riding him in earnest now.

 

“ _Flark_! Yes!” Sam gasped as Peter finally gave him that sweet friction he’d been teasingly denying him.

 

Sam's begging was doing **things** to him. Peter wanted to give him exactly what he wanted, what **they** **both** wanted.

 

“I wanna hear how good it is. Don't hold back Sam tell me-” Peter broke off into a lewd and completely unabashed moan as he finally found the perfect angle, “Oh, oh fuck! Yeah, yeah, yeah, tell me how much you want me. How good it feels to have me riding you like this, taking you in deep,” Peter arched his back, then brought his head forward to press against Sam's shoulder, “I want you **so** **fucking bad** Sam.”

 

“Good, so good, gods you feel so good. You’re perfect, fucking perfect, Peter. So hot and tight,” Sam couldn’t stop talking. His mouth went on, praising Peter as he fucked him, “Want you, want this, _flark_ you’re so good. ‘M so fuckin’ hard for you Pete. Spirits, I wanna fill you up. Want your cum all over us, wanna make you happy.”

 

Peter groaned. Sam's dirty words went straight to his already straining cock, making it jump between them.

 

“I-I'm so close. Make me cum Sam please. Fuck, I wanna cum so badly,” Peter whined, enjoying the ache in his balls and the thrum of intense pleasure as he was held on the precipice of his orgasm, waiting for Sam.

 

“Yes, yes, cum Peter, cum for me,” Sam moaned, reaching between them to stroke Peter’s dick. He was so hard, “Fuck you’re so fucking hard. So fucking hot.”

 

Peter bouncing on his cock was driving him mad. He was so close, so _das’t_ close. He worked Peter’s cock with determination.

 

“Cum on me Pete, get me messy. Make-” Sam choked off his demands. It was too intense, too much, too soon.

 

“Please, please, Peter, gods, please, I’m so close. You’re so good,” Sam whispered instead, he alternated teasing caresses to the head of Peter’s dick with firm strokes to his shaft. Peter cried out as Sam's begging pushed him over the edge. He came, hot cum pulsing out between them all over Sam's stomach and chest.

 

“Ah. Yeah, Sam,” Peter breathed, his voice soft and trembling.

 

“Yes, yes! That’s it. That’s it Pete, cum for me,” Sam encouraged, relishing the feel of his hot cock pulsing in his hand. His hot jizz splattering on his skin as Peter's tight ass clenched even tighter around his dick. Sam moved his sticky, messy hand to Peter’s hips, clinging to him again with both hands.

 

“Please,” he whispered, balls aching and cock throbbing. “I’m so close Peter. What do you want, I wanna fill you up so bad, please.”

 

Peter grinned stupidly, taking in the sight of Sam, flushed and covered in his cum. “Fuck you're gorgeous,” Peter whispered reverently, “Come on, let go. That's it Sam, I want your cum. Fill me up with it. So fucking good.”

 

Peter kept riding him, picking his pace back up now that he'd recovered a bit from his own orgasm. Sam felt like he was coming apart. Peter’s sweet words and steady fucking pulled his orgasm out of him.

 

Everything was Peter, Peter, Peter as he lost it. His scent, his voice, the sweat slick feel of his skin under his hands. The sticky, cooling mess of his cum across his chest and stomach. His perfect ass clenching around him, milking his dick. Making him cum and cum until his balls were wrung dry. Peter muttered praise and little declarations of adoration as he rode out Sam's orgasm. The feeling of Sam cumming inside him combined with the knowledge that they were dating now made Peter feel warm and happy. He **belonged**. He was Sam's.

 

“That was so good. You're so amazing, Sam,” he muttered, stilling on his lap. “Best massage ever. I mean I've never actually **had** one before but God that was something else.”

 

Peter laughed and kissed Sam everywhere he could reach.

 

“Massage?” Sam mumbled, a bit dazed. He tried to kiss Peter back, brushing his lips against his ear and back of his head.

 

“Heh. Yeah dork. Remember? The thing you just gave me?” Peter giggled, “And I don't mean your cock. I mean **before** the sex,” he added, then winced as he moved and dislodged Sam's softening dick.

 

“Mmmm,” Sam moaned. He sighed a bit sadly at the loss of Peter’s tight heat from around his cock, but he **was** completely spent. 

 

“Vaguely,” Sam added, when he found his voice. Peter chuckled. He felt all loose and melty and good in a way he hadn't in a very, very long time.

 

“What a shame,” Peter said, ignoring his own cum on Sam's chest in order to snuggle up to him. “Guess that means we'll have to do it again and again and again until you remember. Truly a tragedy.”

 

“Mmm Hmm, jus’ the worst,” Sam sleepily agreed, snuggling into Peter. Completely boneless and spent. Peter smiled and snuffled at Sam's hair.

 

“What you tired? Did someone wear you out or something?” Peter asked innocently. Peter wasn't **that** tired, but Sam's sleepiness was absolutely adorable. Sam glowered weakly at Peter.

 

“Wonder who coulda done that,” Sam grumped. How could Peter still have any energy? He just wanted to lay here and sleep for a week. Or at least for an hour.

 

“Some huge asshole I bet,” Peter kissed him, all over his face and neck and generally tried to be a nuisance, “Just a real big jerk.”

 

Sam relaxed into his kisses. Unintentionally foiling Peter’s plan to be a pest.

 

“Hey, that’s my boyfriend you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” Sam said, mustering the energy to pretend to be angry at Peter’s taunts. Peter bit his lip, certain that if Sam was awake enough to keep his eyes open he'd be able to see the way those words had made him glow.

 

“Yeah. He is,” Peter kissed Sam's head again, “Go to sleep nerd.”

 

“You’re a nerd,” Sam muttered, snuggling into Peter and drifting off almost as soon as his eyes were closed.


	9. sCR = KCR/Y(c)^0.5 | cMAX=(KCR/Ys)^2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I cannot take this anymore_   
>  _I'm saying everything I've said before_   
>  _All these words they make no sense_   
>  _I find bliss in ignorance_   
>  _Less I hear the less you'll say_   
>  _But you'll find that out anyway_   
>  _Just like before_
> 
> _Everything you say to me_   
>  _Takes me one step closer to the edge_   
>  _And I'm about to break_   
>  _I need a little room to breathe_   
>  _'Cause I'm one step closer to the edge_   
>  _And I'm about to break_
> 
> _I find the answers aren't so clear_   
>  _Wish I could find a way to disappear_   
>  _All these thoughts they make no sense_   
>  _I find bliss in ignorance_   
>  _Nothing seems to go away_   
>  _Over and over again_   
>  _Just like before_
> 
> \- One Step Closer, Linkin Park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Non-graphic mentions of sexual assault of children, Murder/Minor Character Death
> 
> Also a reminder that this is a work of fiction and it is entirely coincidental if any names or characters herein resemble actual persons.

Nova floated in high Earth orbit, staring at Earth but not seeing the space junk in low orbit. It’d been such a constant part Earth’s characteristics that he never really noticed it, anyways. Though it **was** a violation of multiple ordinances, both from the Nova Empire and Asgard.

 

He waved absently to the International Space Station as it rotated by. But his mind was busy running through the data accumulated by his helmet’s search.

 

Much of any supposed evidence must have gone up in the fires. But with the added information he’d accidentally gathered today, he’d been able to confirm that Klara had reported that her foster father was really her husband. The agent reviewing the case had made notes minimizing the significance of this comment. Though 'Mr. Prast'  **had** been one of Neurotoxin’s victims.

 

A few other victims were registered in other state’s sex offenders listings, but had somehow slipped through the cracks when moving to New York. But again, the evidence left now was very sparse. No official actions against any of them, anyways.

  
The fire at Lenox Hills though… one of the missing persons still hadn’t been found. And what his helmet was pulling up regarding him was... concerning. Sam shook his head and dropped down through the garbage in Earth’s orbit, back to New York, New York.

 

* * *

 

Neurotoxin was webswinging when he saw the brilliant blue streak of light that signaled Nova’s presence. Huh. Sam must have been in space. Maybe their recent trip to the planetarium had inspired him? It made him feel warm in a very good way, thinking about his actions inspiring Sam.

  
It only took him a second to make up his mind. He changed direction, swinging towards the part of the city Nova had flown. He hoped he'd find him alone. After all, he had some wooing to do.

 

* * *

 

Nova was sitting under one of the ever present water towers in this part of the city. His helmet was scanning the local police bands and street chatter for trouble. Just thinking of going to Stark or Cap with his ‘hunch’ still left him feeling a bit itchy. Because right now **all it was** was just the words of a murdering arsonist that the rest of the supers despised, and some extremely shaky circumstantial data. Nothing concrete. Nothing definite.

 

“I should be in space, patrolling this sector,” Sam said aloud. Because it was true, and because he had a bad habit of talking out loud when he was alone with his helmet. He really **should** be patrolling this sector. But his head just wasn't in the game enough for cosmic tier _schlag_ right now.

 

“Aww, but **then** who would I hang out with? Heh, get it? Hang?” Neurotoxin waved cheerfully at Nova from upside down on a strand of webbing.

 

Nova jumped, twirling around ready to fight. But Neurotoxin was **again** , weirdly not attacking him outright. Or taunting him into attacking him either. After a few tense moments, Sam relaxed. Or appeared to. Floating with his arms crossed, back under the water tower.

 

“Yeah, I get it. Doesn’t make it any funnier though,” Sam said.

 

“Ooh, ouch. Why you gotta be like that Lite Brite? I'm being friendly here! And I save all my **best** puns for you, y’know. I'd appreciate some appreciation,” Neurotoxin continued as he hung upside down. Man, Nova was such a cutie. That little startled ready to fight bit was **precious**.

 

“I’m touched. Really. But I’m taken. And that **wasn’t** your best,” Sam said. He cocked his head, “What, you got a bad deal at the black market and need it shut down? Too bad, I have more important things to do than try to find wherever they’ll run off to next time.”

 

“You're breaking my heart here Bucket Head,” Neuro sighed, even as the butterflies in his chest took flight. “And, no, no, but man! Let me tell you I did **not** expect an actual space market. Black markets are usually just like… well they aren't really **markets**. I had a wild time.”

 

Neurotoxin hopped off of his web, landing in a crouch on the bottom of the water tower, “I’m actually here because I have a present for you, but you aren't being very niiiiice. Maybe you don't deserve it.”

 

“I **told** you I’m taken. I don’t want your creepy gifts,” Sam snapped. He didn’t leave though, this was **too** weird. Had Neurotoxin been mind swapped with someone else? That'd be really bad. Except no one else had his terrible sense of humor.

 

“Did you get mind whammied or something, you’re being weird,” Nova said, never able to keep his mouth shut in the best of times.

 

Neuro snorted at that, “Please, as if anyone **else** could make jokes as good as mine.”

 

“Yeah, ‘good’,” Nova muttered. Loud enough for Neuro to hear easily. Neurotoxin slumped ‘down’ so that he was seated on the underside of the water tower. He stretched his legs out in front of him, and kicked his feet.

 

“No, no it's just that recent events have made me think maybe you aren't as much of a douche as I previously thought. I kinda like you, Moon Boy, and yes, I **know** you're taken. You're very keen on repeating it,” Neurotoxin said. He hoped he didn't sound as happy as he felt. Or well, maybe Sam would just brush it off as weird spider things if he did. Sam was practically  **bragging** about having him in his life now! It filled his heart up with joy.

 

“Anyways I'm willing to give you a chance, hence the present. Don't worry you'll like this gift. I promise,” Neuro said, leaning back onto his hands.

 

Sam floated at Neuro’s eye level, closer than he preferred but... again if the villain wanted to fight they’d already be fighting. It was one of the nice things about him.

 

About the **only** nice thing, really. No tedious monologuing, no terrible speeches about how he was going to fix everything wrong with the world starting with the Avengers. And **best** of all, no maniacal laughter. Just ‘let’s dance’ or some awful pun, and then they’d kick ass until someone passed out or something went boom.

 

Though apparently keeping his word was not an unknown. So maybe **two** nice things about the villain, **tops**.

 

As Neurotoxin sat, upside down, on the water tower Sam wondered absently, and not for the first time, if he was part alien or Earth spider. Or if he just like the extra eyes on his mask for the creep factor.

 

“So glad I can meet your expectations, Web Butt,” Sam said, unable to resist the verbal jab, “What kinda gift we talkin’ about here. ‘Cause I really don’t like things that go boom when I open them.”

 

Neurotoxin had no obvious packages, just his pouches. Pouches full of usually nasty surprises. Sam was, again, thankful that his helmet made him burn proof. Sam drew his legs up to ‘sit’ on the air in front of Neuro. He contemplated rotating upside down, but decided it was too friendly.

 

“And while I wouldn’t turn down some units, I don’t accept bribes. And you don’t waste your own money, so,” Sam frowned squinting at him. Had he looked through the porn and realized it was hella weird, even by cosmic standards? It’d be like him to ‘gift’ him something terrible as a joke, “I don’t want those stupid nudie mags, they’re all weird _swark’ng_ fetish _bax_.”

 

“Space language is weird,” Neurotoxin said lightly, unfazed by Sam's closeness, “And sorry Mr. Vanilla but I sold those too. Do you want your gift or not? I don't have all night you know.”

 

“You don't know my kinks, Red,” Sam snapped, incensed.

 

“Touchy! I was kidding!” Neurotoxin said, holding up his hands in surrender. Upside down it lost some of its effect.

 

“Yeah. Okay, fine. Give me your totally not a tracking device or boom making supposed gift,” Sam grumped.

 

“M’kay!” Neuro sang out, delighted. He turned to face Sam fully, the nine eyes of his mask glinting eerily in the light of Sam's glow. He drummed his hands on his thighs then sighed, “Man I wish I had a drumroll. Ahem. Okay, okay your gift is: Dennis Lackner.”

 

Sam cocked his head, blinking.

 

“I don't need a boy toy, and for all your evil _bax_ something tells me this isn't human trafficking,” Sam said. Leaning a bit closer, he added, “You gonna give me anything else with this guy's name, or can I go make sure this sector is gonna be here when you wake up next?”

 

For once Neurotoxin didn't make a joke. Instead he was silent for a moment, just staring with the blank surface of his mask. Unreadable. It was unnerving.

 

“He's my next victim,” Neurotoxin finally said, his voice flat, “You want to protect people from me so badly? Go for it. Protect him. But I'm not gonna tell you when it'll happen. You wanna tail him to make sure he doesn't go up in smoke, then be my guest. That's your gift. A chance to stop me before he dies.”

 

Sam stared. Silent. His helmet was already searching New York for this man. He dismissed the two children out of hand. There was evil, and there was crazy evil. And there was **this** crazy spider. He was the only villain that he'd ever seen stop in the middle of a fight to stop civilians from getting crushed. Killing kids just wasn't something Sam could picture the spider doing.

 

Neurotoxin hadn't left yet, either. And his helmet had pulled up all the adults with that name it could find, so Nova asked, “The forty something modeling agent or the twenty something engineering student?”

 

“You're so clever aren't you Sparky!” Neurotoxin said, back to being chipper, “The modelling agent.”

 

Neuro shook his head. Nova really was something. What other hero would just accept this without even blinking?

 

“Okay,” This was… this was **so weird**. Did he **really** **want** to get caught? Maybe. Or maybe he wanted a vile criminal brought to justice? Maybe… Maybe Neurotoxin was trying his best to bring criminals to justice, but no one had taught him better than this? It wasn't like he was a mercenary… killing just **anyone** for the right price. 

 

Though Sam really  **had**  been neglecting his duties to the remains of the Nova Empire. This sector **needed** a sweep.

 

Nuero'd kept his word before...

 

“I seriously have to patrol this sector for a cycle. Give me your word you'll wait thirty two hours and I won't see if your part _axngboxng_ the fun way.”

 

Neuro sighed, “I’m on a time crunch here. Thirty two hours is a long time… but I’ll **try**. That’s the best I can do. Wanna shake on it?”

 

Peter was being honest, too. Barring an emergency, he’d keep his stingers out of the fucker until Sam had a chance to check him out. 

 

Sam reached out, shaking his hand. It was times like these that he was grateful for his erstwhile space family’s less than legal roots.

 

“I'll be Bach,” Sam said, heading out and up. If anyone would appreciate the pun, Neurotoxin would. He paused above New York, sending Peter a text.

 

   _gotta be incommunicado 4 a few days Work stuff sry ): Had a blast today <3 see u soon _

 

Neurotoxin shook his head, smiling behind his mask.

  
_I'll miss you dork <3 I had fun too. Be safe secret agent man _

 

* * *

 

Sam’s patrol through this sector, and the other sector that he’d missed when he'd been benched, was about average. It still took most of the cycle to complete, but he wasn’t ready to pass out exhausted by the end. When he returned to Earth he even had time to scope out this supposed victim. Though he was a bit too tired to tango with Neurotoxin if things went south. Backup really  **was** an option if things got serious. **Really**.

Sam hadn't known what he'd been expecting when he went to scope out the studio of this modeling agent. But it hadn't been the digital pictures that any sane person would retch at. He hovered in place trying to hold back his urge to vomit as his helmet scanned, tagged and cataloged each illegal image and crime.

“Still think he doesn’t deserve this?” Neurotoxin’s voice came from the upper corner of the room, cutting through the silence like a knife. Or a stinger.

Sam didn't have the energy to spare to be surprised. He was too busy trying not to be sick all over the floor. Honestly… honestly he wanted to kill this monster himself. But he **couldn't**. Not just because killing humans was wrong. Killing anyone was wrong. _Killing is wrong_ , he thought, and again, _killing is wrong._

“Killing people is wrong,” Sam said aloud, because it needed saying. But his voice was weak, “This… this asshole should face the judge. Get the slammer. These kids deserve **justice**.”

Sam couldn't look at Neurotoxin’s mask. He could feel his many eyes boring into him, judging him already. Finding him just as useless as his teammates did.

“Justice? You think they'll get **justice** from the court?” Neurotoxin shook his head. His voice was bitter, filled with hatred, “Greg Smythe was friends with bad cops. He was never **once** convicted. Chance Andrews **was** a cop. Roger Romanov and Francis Ferrier met in jail. Half of these monsters are out on parole faster than some schmuck who stole a car. And they're much more eager to re-offend than some idiot in for grand theft auto.”

Neurotoxin moved closer to Nova, voice low and almost gentle, “Jail is **better** than they **deserve**.”

Nova felt like he was falling. His helmet reminded him that he wasn't, he was still floating in this photography studio. Notorious arsonist and killer, Neurotoxin an arms length away and creeping closer.

 

His helmet was searching local laws and punishments. When had he sent it off to do that? But what Neurotoxin was saying, at least about the city and state laws, was true. Kids whose only crime was weed possession were in prison longer than child rapists. 

His helmet had to remind him again that he wasn't falling. Nova turned to stare at Neurotoxin. The too many, blank eyes of his mask stared back. Across his HUD scrolled the data on intrasystem laws.

“Earth is an Asgardian Protectorate,” Sam said numbly.

“What? What does that mean?” Neurotoxin tilted his head, confused.

“It means… It means that Odin’s word is law. The weak can call on champions to battle to defend their honor or make right wrongs.”

Neuro stared at Nova for a moment, thinking. It sounded like… like he was willing to let him do what he needed to. Neurotoxin shifted closer, as if bringing Nova in for a sports huddle. Was it baseball that did that? He could never remember. Sport junk was Flash's thing, anyways.

“Okay. Here's what's going to happen Sparky. I have this bastard webbed up in the other room. I’m going in there now, and I'd say you have about… mmm three or four minutes to call in your Avenger friends or to stop me yourself,” he popped his wrist spikes, turning around, “I might not fit the bill of ‘champion’, God knows these kids deserve someone **better** than me, but I'm the only one who's willing to do what has to be done.”

Sam flexed his fingers. His voice was as empty as his glowing eyes as he said,“You need a witness, and he can’t be tied up.”

 

“He doesn't **deserve** to be free. He deserves to be as **helpless** as **they** were,” Neurotoxin hissed, stopping in his tracks. He wheeled about crouching low and looking monstrous with his stingers out and dripping venom.

 

“I don't give a fuck about the laws. I'm a criminal remember?” he barely sounded human, his voice was so full of deadly rage. He took a deep breath and turned to Nova, “Would it make you feel better if I said he struggled **before** I tied him up?”

“I’m **not** breaking the law! You may not give a _flarg flark_ but this helmet is a promise!” Sam snarled.

 

Nova pointed at Neurotoxin, “Shut up and stay there.”

In a flash of blue-white light he was gone and back. He hadn’t bothered to stop and open the door, or go slow enough to not knock everything over in his wake. He ripped off the man’s bindings and dropped him, his breathing heavy.

“P-please Nova, save me. This fucker just broke in and-”

“Shut up _níðingr_ ,” Sam snarled, “By Odin’s Law I challenge you to restore your honor or die. This witness is _drengr_. By Asgard we duel. What say you?”

“What? But you're a **hero** , you saved **me**! Shouldn't you be squashing the spider? What the fuck are you talking about with all that Asgard shit?”

Neurotoxin sighed. Well **this** was annoying. But hey, seemed he had definitely swayed Nova. That was **good** right?

“I’m oathbrother to Beta Ray Bill, oathbrother to Thor. I’m the protector of this **galaxy** and defender of the **innocent**. Enjoy Helheim,” Sam didn’t wait for a response. The pedophile had already gotten his chance to speak. He moved too fast for an unaltered human to track, crushing the man’s throat and shattering his spine with a palm strike to his neck. He stared at the twitching corpse, shaking. His glow more white than blue.

Neurotoxin whistled, “Damn! Kinda wish I'd brought popcorn for that. Nice job Sunshine, but I do have a few pointers. Number one? Webbing on the mouth really takes care of that whole annoying Chatty Cathy thing.”

Peter squinted at the lack of answer, expression lost behind his mask. Sam was shaking.

“Hey, hey Sparky, it's okay. Was that your first kill?” Neurotoxin made his way over cautiously, voice gentle, “Listen, he **deserved** it. Deserved a slower death honestly. That's why I use the stingers most of the time. But, hey, it's gonna be okay. Next time how about you leave the brutal bit to me huh?”

He knew he shouldn't, but Peter was aching inside at seeing Sam so shaken. He remembered the first time he'd ever killed someone. He'd vomited. Everywhere. Not pretty. Reaching out he very softly placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam huffed, annoyed. Seemingly ignoring his hand.

“Don’t you **listen** , Red? I’ve killed people before, just… just not **human** people,” Sam said, still staring at the twitching corpse, “Are humans always so… twitchy?”

“Eh, depends,” Neuro glanced at the body before looking back to Nova, “Why don't you go home Moon Boy. I'll take care of the cleanup.”

“Reminds me of a zombot,” Sam muttered, creeped out. He was not going to be able to get any sleep tonight. Visions of undead monsters clawing for him were already dancing in his head, “You **sure** he’s not gonna get up and go boom or something? So creepy.”

“It's okay, he's not a baboon zoombot,” Neurotoxin consoled him. Only then did it strike him that he'd already made that joke as Peter and not as Neuro. **Fuck**. Hopefully Sam was too distracted now to catch it. As awful as it was to hope that. He resolved to be there for him as Peter whenever he needed him. No matter what.

“Here,” Neurotoxin webbed the body until it was no longer recognizable as a human, “There you go. Went all Lord of the Rings on it for ya. That any better?”

Sam floated back, only just now noticing Neuro’s hand on his shoulder. It was really, really weird to have him this close. Touching him without trying to hurt him. He broke off the touch and floated a bit away.

_  
_ “Yeah, whatever. When you’re ready to actually be a champion come find me,” Nova said, leaving without looking back. 

 

Peter stared after him a moment, hand still raised. Then sighed and set to work prepping the place to burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _níðingr_ \- a person that cannot be trusted to keep their word/a person that has lost their honor
> 
> _drengr_ \- a person that keeps their word/a person with honor
> 
> Em: I wasn't, originally, gonna leave the Old Norse terms in, and just instead use honorless and oathkeeper. But Viking concepts of honor are different enough from Western concepts I think it's fits. Viking honor is much less moralistic than Western honor. Anyways you can look it up if you're interested in learning more about Old Norse/Viking honor.


	10. Ignorance is Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh my God._   
>  _Oh my God._   
>  _If only he knew,_   
>  _If only he knew,_   
>  _If only he knew about the world without the bullshit and the lies,_   
>  _We could've saved him._   
>  _They could've saved me._   
>  _But instead I'm here drowning in my own fucking mind,_   
>  _And I'll be damned if you're the death of me._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Blood and ink stain the walls._  
>  _Silently with bloodied knuckles, I carry on_  
>  _Hoping it's not too wrong._  
>  _You said the nights were far too long._  
>  _'Honey, it's just the start of it.'_
> 
>  
> 
> \- The Final Episode (Let's Change The Channel), Asking Alexandria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sexings. Dom/Sub dynamics. BDSM negotiation.

Peter was, surprisingly, actually in bed when his text tone went off.

 

He groped for his phone groggily, squinting at the too bright screen.

 

_alien boi: hey cutie can’t sleep wanna cum have sum muffins_

 

He chuckled to himself before shooting a quick text back, promising to be over in a bit.

 

He was, quite honestly,  **worried** about Sam. He hadn't expected him to stick around to **watch** the killing, let alone kill the guy himself.

 

And Sam's tone after he'd finished, the way he'd just stared at the freshly dead body, glow uneven, his body shaking...

 

Peter hoped maybe he could try to give him some peace tonight.

 

* * *

 

Sam looked up as Peter entered.

 

“Hey Big Shot! Hope I didn’t wake you! You seemed like you keep weird hours like me. Here!” Sam shoved a muffin at his mouth, “This oughta make up for it!”

 

“Woah, okay there Turbo, hi to you too!” Peter looked around the apartment, floored by the sheer number of baked goods in sight. “Uhh, are you having a bake sale or something?”

 

Sam looked like he was running on fumes. He’d been up for nearly forty hours straight without a break. His tiny apartment smelled of fresh baked treats and was packed with cookies, turnovers, muffins and other sweets Peter was too tired to think of the names for.

 

“Um… are you **okay**? You look like you haven't slept in like, ever?” Peter grabbed the muffin from Sam and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

“Huh?” Sam blinked, looking around his apartment as if seeing it for the first time.

 

“I slept last cycle!” Sam defended. Before realizing that meant nothing to Peter, “We slept! You were there.”

 

Oh,  **fucking hell**.

 

“The last time you slept was-? Okay, that's it. C’mere,” Peter grabbed Sam's hand, tugging him in the direction of his room. How had this idiot survived without him around? Or had things been easier before he was in the picture? He felt a guilty twist in his gut.

 

But now wasn't the time for self loathing. Now was the time to take care of Sam. He'd angst later. Sam went with him easily, then dug his heels in. Balking suddenly.

 

“Wait, wait.”

 

Peter turned around. Sam was serious. Shoulders set.

 

“Look, there's stuff about me you need to know if we're gonna date,” Sam said, “I know you're just kidding when you call me a secret agent, but I kinda,” Sam swallowed, “I kinda am. And I don't want you getting into this and finding out I'm not what you thought.

 

“I, sometimes I have to kill people for my job, usually I save people, but sometimes, sometimes I can't. And, and I get that's a really _flark'ng_ , fucking big problem for most people. You can leave, right now. I'll delete your number and never call you again. No hard feelings.”

 

Peter pulled Sam closer pressing a kiss to his head. “Hey, the people you kill… They're bad people right?”

 

“The worst,” Sam said, voice cracking. Craving Pete's touch but still terrified that this was it. That he'd be out the door and out of his life forever.

 

“Okay. Then I just have one thing to say to you,” Peter pulled Sam into his arms and pressed his forehead against Sam's. “Thank you. Not everyone can do what you do. And some of the ones who **can** don't do it with intentions nearly as good and selfless as yours.”

 

Peter thought guiltily of himself. Of his own web of secrets he was hiding from Sam. He'd have to come clean soon enough, and he knew he'd fall apart if Sam decided it was all too much. He pressed a kiss to Sam's lips, feeling the need to protect him. To keep him safe and happy no matter what, “I'm not going anywhere. Not until you kick me out.”

 

“Never! You're stuck with me,” Sam choked out, tears running down his face as he practically collapsed on Peter.

 

“I really hope so,” Peter replied quietly.

 

Sam kissed him, “Are you kidding me? Peter you're the best thing that's happened to me in a long, long time.”

 

Peter hummed, “You might be the best thing that's **ever** happened to me. But there are things I should tell you.”

 

He looked at Sam's head, his face buried against his body. The poor guy could barely hold himself up.

 

“But not right now. Now you need to sleep,” He considered for a second before thinking ‘fuck it’ and scooping Sam up into his arms to carry him to bed.

 

“Mmm. You're so good to me Pete,” Sam mumbled. Eyes closed and already dozing off. Too tired to think Peter's lack of effort at picking him up strange.

  
“Sleep well Sam,” Peter whispered, placing him in bed and then wrapping himself around him. He petted Sam's head, soothing him to sleep. As soon as Sam's breathing evened out he let himself consider the situation.

 

He wished he could go back. Kill the waste of space before Sam had a chance to, just to spare him this. He wished he could go back and take back every single time he'd hurt or attacked Sam. Wished he could have befriended him as Neuro instead of building animosity between their costumed selves.

 

But what was done was done. 

 

Pressing a gentle kiss to Sam's head Peter got out of bed. He had to force himself not to give in to his urge to get back into bed when Sam grumbled at the sudden lack of his warmth, but the apartment was a mess. The least Peter could do for Sam was clean it all up. 

 

He would curl back up with Sam after he put his stress baking in containers and scrubbed his kitchen down. Then he'd soothe away any nightmares, kiss away any woes and make sure Sam slept for at least a solid eight hours.

 

* * *

 

Peter woke up warm and snugged up against Sam, clinging to him like a squid. His arms and legs were both wrapped around him and the feeling of Sam's smaller body pressed against him was nice. He could get used to waking up like this. 

 

He buried his nose in Sam's hair, breathing in the scent of him as he waited for him to wake. Sam woke up slowly. Still a bit tired. Warm, tangled up in Peter. He nuzzled into his chest, contemplating if getting up was really, actually necessary.

 

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” Peter said, feeling Sam stir. He pressed a kiss to the side of his head, then another. He ran his hand up and down Sam's back lazily and nuzzled against him, “You sleep okay?”

 

“Mmmmm, mornin,” Sam mumbled, “This make you my prince or my dragon?”

 

He finally yawned, stretching into Peter. Peter hummed, pretending to think it over.

 

“How about I'll be your prince on the streets and a dragon in the sheets,” Peter said finally. He let his hand run down the entire length of Sam's spine and squeezed the firm globe of his ass. Sam chuckled, arching into Peter's wandering hands.

 

“Mmmm hmmm,” Sam lazily agreed, tilting his head back to kiss and nibble on Peter’s neck.

 

“Feels nice,” Peter sighed happily. He nosed at the top of Sam's head, prompting him to tilt his head up so he could kiss his lips.

 

“How you doing?” Peter asked when there was a break between kisses.

 

“Much better,” Sam said, nuzzling noses. Then he looked at Peter with sleepy, worried, green eyes.

 

“You're… you're seriously okay with… me running out at weird times, maybe never coming back, or, or…” Sam trailed off. Then took a breath and continued, “Cause I don't know if I can handle you leaving because of my job after today.”

 

Sam groaned, _flark_ that sounded needy. He buried his head under his pillow, closing his eyes and sighing.

 

“I mean, don't feel trapped, just-” Sam pulled the pillow off and rolled onto his back. He was so terrible with this kind of stuff.

 

Peter gently placed his hand on Sam's face, kissing him quiet, “If I wanted to leave I wouldn't still be here Sam. Believe me I… I don't deserve you, but I'm not going anywhere.”

 

Peter frowned. God he was **terrible**. He'd never felt more like a villain than in this moment, needing to tell Sam who he really was, but choking on the words.

 

“I like you. I want you. And someday maybe **you'll** want to run from **me** , but until then I'm here.” Peter slipped his hand up Sam's shirt, wanting to feel the soft warmth of his bare skin. Wanting to prove to himself that Sam was **real** and there with him for now.

 

“I like you, want you too. Maybe I'll run, but I don't think so,” Sam said. He didn't think it very likely. He sat up and pulled off his shirt, eager for more than just gentle touches.

 

“Mmm, seems like our moment is over, huh?” Peter laughed, taking in the sight of Sam shirtless. It was a very, very nice one. He ran his hand down Sam's abs, down his stomach, letting it come to rest over the bulge in his pants. Checking on progress.

 

“Enough mush. Let's fuck like we mean it,” Sam said cheerfully. He arched his hips up, into Peter's wandering hand. Peter giggled, pleased. He rubbed at Sam's hardening cock through his pants, looking him in the eyes.

 

“What if I **want** to be mushy?” Peter purred, sliding his pants down a little and running his fingers along the waistband of Sam's boxers, “What if I want to lay you out here on this bed,” he pushed Sam backwards and climbed on top of him, “and worship every inch of your perfect gorgeous body?”

 

“Okay. If you say so,” Sam sighed happily up at Peter, grinning at his words. Peter leaned in and nipped at his chest before taking his nipple into his mouth and sucking. Sam gasped as Peter sucked on his nipple, getting it hard. Peter liked that sound. He wanted to hear more. He lapped at the hard nub before gently rolling it between his teeth, even as he let his hand wander back down to cover Sam’s cock. He squeezed him a few times, getting him nice and hard as he moved his mouth to the other side, teasing that nipple as well.

 

Sam moaned as Peter continued teasing him. Then whined as Peter stopped touching his cock to pull down his pants and boxers. Sam kicked them off quickly, then wiggled his hips. His hard cock swayed and bounced, Sam trying to bring Peter’s attention back to it.

 

“Hmm, I feel like you’re trying to tell me something,” Peter hummed, kissing down Sam’s chest. He bit down, then nuzzled the spot as his fingers teased along the v of his hip, down to trace circles on his inner thighs. “But I just can’t put my finger on it…”

 

“This is **revenge** , isn’t it?” Sam complained. He ran his hands along Peter’s back, then did a double take when he finally realized Peter was wearing pajamas, “Dude, where did you find polka dot pajamas in your size?”

 

“At an adult clothing store! For **adults**!” Peter said, pouting. “You don’t think they’re sexy?”

 

Peter brushed the tips of his fingers just barely over Sam’s cock, then licked a stripe along the line between his thigh and pelvis. Sam grinned, running his fingers through Peter’s hair. What a total nerd. An evil, teasing, **naughty** nerd.

 

“I think they’d be sexier on the floooorrrr,” Sam drawled, tugging at the collar of Peter’s top.

 

“ **You’d** be sexier on the floor,” Peter said, proving once and for all he was a totally mature adult. He grinned widely and tugged his top off, tossing it away. His pants however he left on as he nipped at Sam’s thighs, then mouthed at his balls, licking at them with his hot wet tongue. Sam’s snark was cut off at Peter’s hot tongue licking on his balls. He made little, aborted giggles.

 

Peter smirked at that, then licked his way up Sam’s cock again and again before closing his mouth around the head. He hummed around it, tongue lightly teasing as he glanced up to gauge Sam’s reaction. Sam’s choked giggles turned into happy groans as Peter sucked his dick. As Peter's tongue flicked the sensitive underside of his head he ran his fingers through Peter's hair and moaned, "Oh, yeah, Pete.”

 

Peter made a happy sound. Having Sam's cock in his mouth was something he'd never get tired of. He looked up at Sam through his lashes, eyes gleaming wickedly as he decided it was time to show him his favorite party trick. He pulled off for a moment to breathe, then slid his lips down all the way to the base of Sam's dick, taking him into his throat. He didn't stop until his nose was pressed against the softly curling hair on Sam's pelvis. And then, slowly, deliberately, he swallowed.

 

Sam’s fingers tightened in Peter’s hair, his soft words of praise choked off into shocked grunts of pleasure as Peter deep throated his cock. Peter worked Sam's cock with his throat before pulling off, gasping for breath.

 

“Sam,” Peter moaned, his voice rough, “Sam, I'm yours. I want to make you feel so good. Wanna make you happy.”

 

He lapped at the head of Sam's cock, running his lips over the head teasingly a few times before pulling back to plead, “I'll do whatever you want, just tell me what you need.  You can fuck my mouth, let me take you. I want to make you feel amazing.”

 

Sam made needy little ‘yes want’ noises in the back of his throat as he stared at Peter. His heart doing somersaults. Sweet, kind Peter begging him to be used was doing **things** to Sam. He wanted desperately to grab onto Peter’s hair and fuck his mouth raw. Watch him swallow down his jizz eagerly. Hear his sweet, ruined voice saying ‘Thank you, Sir’ as he looked up at him with his cum on his face. Sam wanted to ride his perfect, full cock until Peter was again a ruined wreck. Demand Peter fuck him hard when he’d finally had enough of his pleading. He wanted the hot, wet slickness of Peter’s cum inside him. Wanted Peter to lick him clean, sucking his own cum from his ass until Sam was hard again.

 

The only thing Sam managed to actually get out past the jumble of lusty fantasies was, “Wanna fuck your mouth.”

 

Peter made a little sound at that, opening his mouth obediently to take Sam’s cock.

 

“Fuck yeah, Pete, just like that,” Sam groaned at the wet heat of his mouth around his dick. He reached down, running his fingers through Peter’s hair. Then he threaded his fingers in his fluffy hair and thrust up, watching as he fucked his mouth. Ready to stop at the first sign this wasn’t okay, but gods he hoped it was. Because it felt amazing. He could feel himself making little grunts as he thrust into Peter’s throat. It was so hot and wet, so, “Fucking perfect.”

 

Peter closed his eyes, making soft aborted little sounds around Sam’s cock. His face was flushed, hair messy around Sam’s fingers. The wet sounds of Sam sliding deep into his mouth made him shiver, his hands scrabbling for purchase on Sam’s thighs as he took it, and tried to vocalize his delight at every second of it. Every thrust into his mouth felt like Sam was staking his claim on him over and over, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to give him everything.

 

“Yeah, you like that?” Sam asked, getting rougher. Peter’s little moans and choked noises were, “So fucking hot. You’re so hot, Pete.”

 

Peter’s blue, blue eyes were locked on his face, completely blown. His lips stretched around his cock, flushed and pink. Peter moaned at Sam’s words and his tone. At the rough way he was fucking his mouth and the feeling as he pulled his hair a little harder than before. Ever since the spider bite he'd felt pressure a lot less keenly. Having Sam treat him rougher, touching him harder, felt amazing. He felt it so much  **more** than those gentle touches of before. Not that those had been bad either. He just loved having Sam touch him. 

 

Sam pulled him by the hair back off of his cock, giving him a moment to catch his breath. He panted hot gusts of air over the wet head of Sam’s dick, not even noticing the strand of saliva still connecting him to the swollen tip.

 

Gazing up at him with blown eyes Peter tilted his head back to bare his neck, though he kept his mouth close enough to Sam’s cock that he could easily slide it back in if he wanted to. He hoped that his body language and expression would tell Sam the things he couldn’t quite catch his breath enough to form into words. Sam might have growled a little bit at Peter’s actions. Gods, he was so perfect.

 

“You stop me if I get too rough,” Sam said. It wasn’t a question.

 

He pushed Peter back onto his cock, letting his nails scrape against his scalp. He tightened his grip on his hair and arched into him. He fucked his mouth roughly, only half paying attention now to anything other than Peter’s choked moans and wet, hot throat. The little noises he were making were winding him tight. Getting him close.

 

“Gods, you’re so fucking perfect, Peter,” Sam groaned. The little sounds Peter was making were still happy, at least before they were cut off by his cock. Sam watched Peter take his dick, curling pleasure winding tighter.

 

“You’re gonna drink it,” Sam told him, pulling him off again. Letting him try and breathe. And giving him one last chance to stop him if it was too much.

 

“I’m gonna cum down your fucking throat and you’re gonna drink it all up,” Sam said, watching Peter intently.

 

Peter wasn’t sure if he could answer. He wasn’t sure he could do anything but pant and cling to anything he could hold onto like a lifeline. His dick was so fucking hard, pulsing between his legs, and his balls ached with the need to cum. But he didn’t touch himself. Didn’t even consider it, too focused on Sam to really consider much of anything. He nodded, still barely able to breathe.

 

Sam was so good. Peter wanted to show him how much he felt for him. How much he respected him, how much he wanted to give him anything he wanted.

 

“Y-yes,” Peter said, voice raw and wrecked, “Yes sir.”

 

“Good,” Sam growled. The thrill of being hearing Peter’s wrecked voice say that was nearly too much. He shoved his head back onto his cock roughly, fucking his mouth, his throat. He focused on that winding spring of pleasure, fucking Peter’s mouth much too fast now for him to catch his breath.

 

It only took a few more fast thrusts before Sam was cumming. Dick pulsing as he slammed deep into Peter’s throat. Peter's nose pressing up against his skin. He came with grunting moans, fingers twitching against Peter’s scalp. His grunts gave way to whining little sounds as Peter stayed on, working the sensitive head of his cock with his throat. Sam let go of his hair, hands dropping numbly to the bed.

 

Peter swallowed Sam’s cum as best he could, working his cock with his tongue and throat even once the last pulse was finished. He could feel some of Sam’s warm jizz leaking from the corner of his lips. Closing his eyes he tried to moan around Sam, keeping him in his mouth. He’d keep him there until Sam told him otherwise, content to suck his cock for the whole night, to get him hard again and again if that’s what he wanted.

 

Sam’s leg twitched and he shuddered, mewling weakly as Peter kept working his cock. A hard suck had Sam shaking, making adorable noises that Peter wanted to hear more of. Giving Sam this kind of pleasure made him feel fluttery inside. It was nice to do this for him, to give himself over completely to Sam’s pleasure and enjoyment. He pulled almost all the way off of his cock so that he could lick in lazy circles around the sensitive head, finally able to moan louder now that Sam’s length was no longer in his throat.

 

Sam moaned, shaking. This was the best 'torture', and Peter was so good at it. Sam pressed his shaking hand to his head, tangling his fingers in his messy hair. He made a token attempt at pushing Peter off, but Peter didn't seem to even notice his hand. He mewled pathetically, content to let Peter have his way with him. Sam twitched and shuddered as his hot tongue teased him. This was something they really should have talked about, but Sam loved it. 

 

"That's, ah _flark_ , that's good Pete. That's enough," Sam managed after a few more moments. Peter pulled back immediately, his eyes dark and pupils blown. His lips were red and swollen and wet, and Sam couldn't resist. He pressed a gentle thumb to Peter’s lips, wiping up his cum and pushing his thumb into Peter’s mouth for him to suck on. Peter shivered as Sam continued to fuck his mouth with his thumb even when his cock was spent. It felt good and right. God Sam made him **happy**. He was everything he’d ever wanted.

 

Peter treated Sam’s thumb like it was his cock, licking and sucking at it until Sam was finished. He whined softly when Sam pulled out, leaving his used mouth empty.

 

“You’re so good,” Sam said, voice soft and rough. Peter preened at the praise. Sam gave his cheek a little pat, “Get the lube.”

 

Peter moved immediately, eager to comply. Whatever Sam had in mind he knew it would be amazing. Sam watched him obey with dark, hungry eyes. Peter pulled the bottle of lube out and waited for instructions.

 

“Get back over here and prep me. Do it like you like, then fuck me hard. Make me scream, bruise my hips,” Sam commanded. 

 

“You’re gonna use me, fill me up, then,” Sam watched Peter watching him. His adoration was plain as day. He could probably tell him **anything** right now and he’d do it happily. Sam swallowed back his initial urges and said instead, “then we’ll see.”

 

“Yes, whatever you want,” Peter said, his cheeks warm. He wasn’t sure if Sam had liked him calling him sir, and though it seemed like he had… the prospect of doing it again was suddenly extremely embarrassing. He shoved that aside and eagerly spread Sam’s legs. Settling between them and tentatively licking a stripe between his ass cheeks. He spread the lube on his fingers as he licked again, getting them warm and ready to bury deep in Sam’s body.

 

Sam sighed in contentment as Peter licked and teased his ass. He was so **good** at this. So eager to please. So **obedient**.

 

Peter kept his tongue inside of Sam as he slipped his first lube slicked finger in past the tight ring of muscle. He curled his tongue, getting Sam nice and wet. The careful licks of before dissolved into fast and messy presses of tongue and lips as Peter lost himself in the act of serving Sam in this way.

 

Sam moaned soft encouragement as Peter’s tentative teasing grew more forceful. His tongue and finger filling him, getting him ready, felt so good. Another finger joined the first along with Peter's tongue in his wet hole, getting Sam looser, stretching him wider and more open with each rough thrust of fingers and frantic curl of his tongue inside of him.

 

Sam moaned wantonly as Peter stretched him. He wanted to tell him to fuck him now, hurry up and fill him full with his amazing cock. But he’d **told** him to prep him how **he** liked. And Peter was so good, he deserved a treat.

 

“Gods you’re so good at this, so perfect Pete,” Sam said, voice rough. He was aching to be filled.

 

Peter wiggled happily at the praise, giving Sam a few more thrusts before pulling out. The sight of his slick hole so open, the way his muscles contracted making the tight ring close, it just made Peter desperate to fill him up again. He spread lube onto his cock liberally with his left hand, shivering at the chill of it. With his right he circled Sam's hole again with eager fingertips, gently thrusting into him and watching the gorgeous sight intently.

 

“Can I fuck you now please?” Peter asked, wanting so badly to be good. Sam shivered, from Peter’s teasing fingers and his question.

 

“You’ve been so good, yeah Pete. Fuck me,” Sam said, dropping his voice to a growl as he commanded him.

 

Peter rushed to comply, moving up to line up his cock. He pushed in slowly, with gentle exhalations of 'thank you, thank you, thank you' against Sam's neck. He nuzzled against him for a moment, pausing as he bottomed out. His pelvis flush against Sam's ass, enjoying the tight wet heat of Sam's body. Sam wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist, moaning softly at the delicious fullness of Peter’s cock inside him.

 

Sam's soft moans were music to Peter's ears. But Sam had given him an order, and as much as he wanted to draw this out and gently fuck more quiet sounds from Sam's lips, he wanted to **obey**. Peter rocked his hips back, then forward again. Hard. Setting a fast, rough pace as he fucked Sam the way he'd demanded.

 

“Yes! _F_ -fuck yes!” Sam gasped, holding onto Peter with his entire body. His legs wrapped around his waist, nails scratching down his back as Peter slammed into him. His little moans from earlier turned into loud, gasping cries, punctuated by the occasional ‘Yes!’ or ‘Fuck!’ which was quickly degenerating into his space-ese as Peter fucked him. Hard and rough, just like he'd asked for. Sam could already feel the delicious pain-pleasure on his hips, under Peter’s hands, that meant bruises would be there in the morning.

 

Peter groaned. This was **almost** perfect. Sure, he had to hold back his strength, but from the way Sam was writhing and crying out under him he seemed to think the force Peter was using was just right. He bit down on Sam's neck, hard enough to leave teeth marks, then kissed and lapped at the redness before moving his kisses and nips up his jaw. He didn't stop until their lips were pressed together in a bruising kiss. **Now** it was perfect.

 

Sam kissed him back just as fierce. Grunting and moaning into his mouth. Shaking as Peter’s perfect cock found his prostate. Fucking him mercilessly just as he’d commanded.

 

“Sam,” Peter moaned as he dug his nails into his skin. He was fucking him at a pace that not too many could keep up for an extended amount of time, relentlessly angling his hips so that his cock was pounding against Sam's prostate with almost every thrust. He held himself up with one hand and reached the other between them, “Sam I want to, fuck, oh God, fuck yeah, I wanna feel you cum. Wanna feel you tighten around my cock, please sir.”

 

Sam was half hard from the hard glide of Peter’s cock against his prostate. His rough fingers gently, tentatively stroking his dick was nice. But his wrecked voice pleading with him to give him another orgasm was better. Sam groaned, his cock getting harder at that sweet sound.

 

“You’ve been so good. You’re so good Pete. Yeah, yeah you can make me cum again. For you,” Sam gasped out between his panting moans as Peter kept up his pace.

 

Peter practically sobbed his pleasure out, curling his fingers around Sam’s hardened cock. Fuck he had gotten him hard again so **fast**. **He’d** done that. With his his fingers and his cock and his mouth.

 

“Just for me,” Peter breathed, awed.

 

“Yeah,”  Sam groaned, “ _Flark_ yeah. All for you Pete."

 

Sam’s words made everything feel hotter, the tension building until he’s so much fucking closer. “P-please I’m,” Peter choked off in a moan, trying so hard not to cum. “I’m so close Sam, please, please I need to, please let me cum!”

 

He buried his face against Sam’s neck, his teeth scraping the soft skin there as he tried to keep thrusting, his whole body shaking. His grip on Sam's cock loose, more fucking Sam into his hand with his thrusts than anything.

 

Peter begging to cum was the hottest thing Sam had heard in a long, long time. He knew if he hadn’t already got the easy one out down Peter’s throat he’d be cumming just from that. Still, he **was** begging. And he’d **said** he wanted to get Sam off, feel him tight around his dick. Sam growled wordlessly.

 

“Thought you wanted me to cum again,” Sam said, nipping at Peter’s ear. Peter’s weak whine as he nipped him was just as perfect as everything else about him.

 

“I can't, fuck Sam I don't know if I can hold back much-nnnng much longer,” Peter moaned, trying so hard to hold back. He bit Sam again, trying to hold on.

 

“Mmmm, if you cum before me you gotta keep fuckin’ me till I cum,” Sam said between pants. It was a bit less of a command than his other words before. He wasn’t quite sure Peter could stay hard long enough after losing it. He shivered at his earlier thought returning, and added “If you can’t keep it up after you lose it, you gotta suck my ass clean.”

 

Was that too much? _Das’t_ but they really needed to talk about this before they actually did it. Peter just seemed to pull out **all** his kinks. Sam moaned, distracted by Peter’s delicious, brutal pace. His flushed, pale skin, glistening with sweat. The feel of his cock driving into him, stretching him. His hand around his dick. The bruises on his hips.

 

“Yes sir, anything sir, please, please I'll fuck you, I'll suck you, I'll do anything you say, anything you want just **please**! _”_ Peter panted, gripping Sam's hips tight, yet still gentle. For him. He didn't want to hurt Sam by accident.

 

Peter tensed up, feeling the sudden rush, the break in tension as he started to cum, still trying so hard to keep fucking Sam. His thrusts became more wild, more frantic as Sam's name came tumbling like a prayer from his lips.

 

“Peter, yes. Yes it’s okay, good, Peter, yeah,” Sam said through his pants. Peter’s pure almost worship of him was so intense. So heady. Sam felt nearly drunk from it. Peter’s cock pulsing deep inside him was so good. His hot, slick cum making his desperate, jerky thrusts that much slicker.

 

Peter whimpered and whined as he fucked Sam's cum slicked hole. Each thrust made him shudder and shake, his cock over sensitive. But Sam wanted to be fucked, and Peter thought with sudden clarity that there was almost nothing in this entire universe Peter wouldn't do for him.

 

Peter had **never** felt like this before. His high school crushes, his few fumbles with the only friend he'd really kept from his childhood, one or two one night stands, none of those things held a candle to the way he felt for Sam. It was thrilling and terrifying and made Peter feel like the whole world was falling away beneath him.

 

“Sam. I can fuck you. Make you cum. Lick my cum out of you like you wanted. I'll do it all, anything for you,” he panted, still fucking him, though he could no longer keep up the same pace, too sensitive. That was, unless Sam asked it of him. If so Peter would find the strength.

 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Sam chanted, entire world focusing on Peter and his desperate, eager obedience. His cock was still gloriously hard inside him. But that surely couldn’t last for much longer. Peter's hand was still around his dick, big and warm and rough but gentle.

 

“Good, good, yes, Peter, _flark_ I’m, I’m so close. You’re so amazing, gods.”

 

Peter’s broken moans and gasping sobs of pleasure, his name whispered like a prayer from Peter’s lips, on top of his still hard cock sliding against his prostate and hand wrapped around his cock were too much.

 

“I’m cumming! I’m-” Sam’s shout turned into grunting groans as his load spilled between them. Slicking their stomachs and chests with his jizz. Not as much as he’d spilled down Peter’s throat. And now he was completely drained. He didn’t have another in him. He moaned as Peter’s shaking thrusts kept hitting that oh so sweet spot inside of him. As his hand on his dick kept up with his thrusts. Sam gasped out, “for, for you.”

 

“Mine, for me,” Peter panted, still working his hips. “And I'm **yours** Sam. **Only** yours, all for you.”

 

Peter moved his hand to Sam's hip, freeing his cock and kissed at Sam's jaw. His thrusting slow, more of a grind than anything now. He was ready for orders. Ready for Sam to tell him to lick up his cum, to clean him with his tongue. To do anything Sam wanted.

 

Sam shuddered and moaned as Peter fucked him so slowly now. Still hard, still filling him.

 

“ _Yayat_ , yes, yes!” Sam sobbed out, the pleasure was so intense. The sweet sound of Peter’s wrecked voice claiming him, and giving himself to Sam. It was so, “So good. Gods, yes. Mine, yours, yes. Yes.”

 

He clung to Peter, nuzzling into his hair as he ground slowly into him.

 

“You’re good, so good. You get,” Sam groaned loudly, shivering again at a particularly hard grind against his sweet spot, “Yeah, you get to do what you want now.”

 

What Peter wanted was a kiss. He claimed his prize, mewling against Sam's mouth as he fucked him, still hard and aching inside of him. Sam kissed him back, exhausted. Half ready to pass out again, even though they’d just woken up.

 

“I want to eat you out,” Pete said reverently between kisses.

 

“Fuck yes,” Sam groaned.

 

“Want to lick and suck my cum out of you, make you shiver, make it up to you for coming so soon,” Peter nipped and kissed his way down Sam's body, whining when his cock slipped out of him.

 

Sam mewled weakly at the loss. No longer stretched. But full, **so** full of Peter.

 

“I want to be good for you.”

 

“Yes, you’re good. You’re so good Peter,” Sam moaned.

 

Peter pressed a few open mouthed kisses to Sam's wet cock, then licked a line up it, tasting Sam’s cum. He moved his suckling kisses lower to his balls, then lower still, mouthing at the cum leaking down Sam's thighs from his open hole. “Should I put my tongue in you sir? Eat my cum out of your ass?”

 

“Yes! Yes! Eat it up slut,” Sam gasped out, resting his feet on Peter’s back. “Lick it up, lick it all up!”

 

Peter was going to end him. Fuck. How could they fit so well together? He moaned breathily as Peter eagerly obeyed. His hot tongue licking him clean.

 

Peter messily licked and sucked at Sam's entrance, a thrill shooting down his spine at both Sam calling him a slut and the act of licking his own cum up from where he'd just fucked Sam senseless. Gods, everything about this felt so good and right. His hand strayed between his own legs, pumping his cock as he chased the last traces of the taste of cum from Sam's body.

 

Sam shuddered and gasped as Peter licked and sucked his hole clean. It felt so good, so hot and so much like claiming him. ‘Forcing’ him to lick his ass after filling him up with his cum, “Oh, yeah, slut. You like that? Licking my ass clean? Gods you’re such a good little slut.”

 

Sam moaned wordlessly, then reached down, pulling Peter up to him by his hair. He kissed him hungrily, licking up the taste of their sex from his lips. Sucking it off of his tongue.

 

Peter made a soft sound, trying to slow the kiss down. He ran his hands up Sam's sides gently, shuddering a little in his arms. This was... it was good. So good. But it was so  **much.** He'd never felt anything this intense **and** good at the same time before. It was overwhelming. 

 

Sam let Peter lead, slowing down his intensity. He ran his fingers through Peter’s messy hair. Petting him gently. His other hand slowly wandering across Peter’s toned body.

 

“Mmm, Pete you’re so perfect,” Sam sighed against his lips, nuzzling noses briefly before resuming their kissing. Lazy and unhurried now. He really, really should get up. Make them breakfast.

 

“You **really** all mine?” Sam asked softly, he buried his face against Peter’s neck, “I like being all **yours**.”

 

Peter made a stupidly happy noise and squeezed Sam closer. “Yeah. I'm all yours until you decide you don't want me anymore. Promise,” he whispered, kissing Sam's head. He felt strange, sort of floaty and good, but also completely overcome. Nothing had ever been like this. He'd never given himself over so completely, body and mind. 

 

“Was that good?” Peter asked, nervous. It was good for **him** , though some parts had been a lot. He wasn't sure how to feel beyond lucky as hell to have someone so amazing.

 

“So _flark’ng_ good,” Sam sighed happily. “You’re so _das’t_ perfect, Peter.”

 

Sam gave him a gentle squeeze, eyes drifting closed. He was so spent, so full and aching and everything good. So **thoroughly fucked**. He hummed softly to himself trying to stay awake. He had a lot to do this cycle, he couldn’t spend all of it fucking.

 

Peter blushed a deep red at the praise. “I, um… I'm glad. I've never really uh done that before. The whole y’know… thing with the sir and the I'm yours and uh subby stuff? It's very new,” a nervous chuckle, then a little kisses to Sam's face, “I'm glad I didn't do it completely wrong or something.”

 

“Get it wrong? No way! Never. You’re the best,” Sam said, nuzzling him. “You’re so good at it. I’m sorry if I get too rough. You can stop me Pete, any time. We, uh. _Fl_ -fuck I’ve been really irresponsible I’m sorry. We need safewords, probably. I mean, if you wanna do more.”

 

Sam felt himself blushing. That had seriously been Peter’s **first** time being a sub? With him? Shit, he **needed** to talk about things before doing them. What if he’d hurt him? What if Peter'd been too scared to **not** obey?

 

“Seriously, it’s supposed to be fun for both of us. Please stop me if you don’t like it,” Sam said, gazing over at Peter’s blue, blue eyes, “I don’t want to hurt you. Not, like, not really.”

 

Sam pressed soft kisses to Peter’s forehead, his cheeks, “You’re so amazing Peter. I want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

 

Peter privately disagreed with Sam's words. He didn't deserve happiness, but here it was falling in his lap. It figured that back when he was a good person all he got was tragedy. Now that he was an irredeemable fuck he got the best thing in the world. But hey who was he to argue? For some inexplicable reason he made Sam happy. And Sam really **did** deserve happiness.

 

“I liked it I promise. You make me happy. It's fun, I just… the parts where you say to just take it and like it and stuff like that make me uncomfortable? Anything too rough I don’t… I don’t like those bits,” they reminded Peter of things he'd rather not be reminded of, "And I need to see you. I don't um... not on my stomach with my back to you? But, fuck Sam, I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my life. It was fucking amazing,” he laughed, burying his face in Sam's hair as he giggled, “I **totally** wanna do that again.”

 

Sam giggled back, then kissed Peter’s throat as he tried to get his giddy giggling under control.

 

“Yeah okay. I’ll watch it with that stuff. If there’s anything you **do** like, just tell me. I’ll do my best to give you what you want.”

 

Sam snuggled into Peter, kissing him softly, eyes drifting closed.

 

“You deserve the best.” Sam sighed.

 

“Heh, dunno if I deserve it, but I sure did get it,” Peter said, kissing Sam's cheek. “But mushy stuff aside you should call me your slut more often and make me breakfast, not necessarily in that order.”

 

“Mmm, okay okay. Breakfast first **then** more slutting, got it,” Sam said, stretching out against Peter. He held back a yawn, then nuzzled against Peter, "Just gimme a sec."

Peter hummed appreciatively, an adorable sound as Sam held him close, trying to gather the strength to get up and make breakfast.

Gods this was nice. The stress of dealing with Neurotoxin, and everything he'd learned last night; the Avengers treating him like a useless kid, or annoyance, it was all taking its toll. But now he had Peter in his life.

 

Sweet, gorgeous, adoring Peter who made him feel important. Who heard about Sam's flaws, about the dangerous and awful _bax_ he had to do and didn't run. Not only stayed but trusted him enough to be a sub for the first time ever with him! Who listened and told him how he felt and what he wanted. It was a good change from the usual assholes he had to deal with. 

 

Peter pressed a little kiss to Sam's chest. The simple action made Sam glow inside, brighter than the Nova Force.

 

Yeah, Sam thought. With all the other _schlag_ going on in his life, he was beyond glad that with Peter at least, everything could just be simple.


	11. The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The spider, dropping down from twig,_   
>  _Unfolds a plan of her devising,_   
>  _A thin premeditated rig_   
>  _To use in rising._
> 
>  
> 
> _And all that journey down through space,_  
>  _In cool descent and loyal hearted,_  
>  _She spins a ladder to the place_  
>  _From where she started._
> 
>  
> 
> _Thus I, gone forth as spiders do_  
>  _In spider's web a truth discerning,_  
>  _Attach one silken thread to you_  
>  _For my returning._
> 
>  
> 
> \- E.B. White, Natural History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: More delicious foods. Some more kink negotiation. Cute sexings.

Another gentle nuzzle against Peter's reclining form, and then Sam was bouncing out of bed.

“Okay! I’m up! What you want to break your fast with, Big Shot?” Sam asked over his shoulder as he sauntered to the kitchen.

“Oh do I get to place an order? Hmm how ‘bout some filet mignon, or maybe some cordon bleu.” Peter hopped up, following Sam into the kitchen with a shit eating grin. “Come on fancy pants, let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, smacking Sam’s ass to punctuate his words. 

“Rude!” Sam yelped, but he was laughing.

“I don’t exactly keep meat just laying around, but I can make a mean omelette cordon bleu if you really want,” Sam said, tying on his apron and washing his hands. Seemingly heedless of the mess dripping down his thighs.

Peter whistled, “Damn I was kidding but that sounds delicious.”

He draped himself all over Sam’s shoulders, kissing his neck and generally being a pest. Sam chuckled at both Peter’s affection and surprise.

“I like to get my meat  **fresh** . So it’s gonna be swiss, ham and eggs, maybe some spinach and onions if that’s cool?”

Sam did his best to get out his bowl and whisk to beat the eggs in. And his spatula and skillet to cook it all with. Peter was not making it easy, snuggling and smooching as he went about his tasks.  

“Mhmm. Sounds delicious. The last breakfast you made me was delicious too,” Peter laughed, tracing his fingers over the bruises he’d made on Sam’s hips. 

“You’re such a catch. What’d I do right to deserve you?” Peter asked, kissing Sam’s ear, his hair, his shoulder.

“Me? The catch? I know I’m awesome, but come on, you’re amazing!” Sam said, arching into Peter’s gentle caresses as he whisked the eggs. He set to humming a little tune, content, as he diced the ham and shredded the cheese.

“I might be too lazy for onions, but get me the spinach?” Sam tested the skillet temperature and poured the eggs for the first omelette. Peter gave Sam’s shoulder another kiss before moving to the fridge.

“Slacker,” Peter accused with a fond smile. Sam made his chest glow like the brightest of fires. He never wanted it to stop. Sam shook his ass at the taunt.

“Anything else I can fetch you Mister Chef Man?” Peter said with an amused snort. Sam thought on Peter's question. The orange juice was long gone, but he’d made cucumber raspberry water the other day.

“Is there any fancy water left? I didn’t check. Did you drink all of it already?” Sam shook his ass at the taunt.

“Hmm?” Peter said, distracted by the wiggling.

“Oh uh… is this it?” he asked, feigning innocence as though he hadn’t totally chugged a glass or two the other. He took it out and shook it in Sam’s direction, grinning.

“You’re a _ fl  _ -fuckin’ dork,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “Get us some glasses, hey?”

Sam set to work on breakfast, resuming his happy humming. Peter poured two glasses. Then drank one and poured more water in.

“Wow I'm so  **thirsty** . I guess we really worked up a sweat there, huh?” Peter brought Sam's glass over to him and looked down at what he was doing on the stovetop, his stomach rumbling. Sam laughed at that.

“Yeah, huh, wonder why?” Sam teased, before drinking his glass and holding it out to Peter for more. Peter poured him more, but not before stealing a kiss.

“So… your sister is thirteen you said? Is the rest of your family in New York too?” He asked, wanting to know more about Sam. He wanted to know  **everything** about Sam if he was being honest. He hadn't cared  **this** much about the details of someone's life in a long,  **long** time.

“Yeah, mom moved here with us a while ago, I was, uh, fifteen?” Sam reflected, cooking almost on autopilot, “Hmm, yeah. Fifteen! Been here for eight years now. And let me tell you New York is  **nothing** like Bumfuck, Arizona! There’s so much to do!”

“Arizona?! You came a long way,” Peter said, sipping some water. “C’mon though I’m sure you could at least find  **something** to do there as a kid. Must have been a lot better than living in the city.”

“Ugh, no. I could skate from one end of town to the other in an  **hour** . There was a skate park, but, uh, it got busted up. New York though! New York has so many skate parks I didn’t know what to do with myself,” Sam grinned, then sighed regretfully, “I haven’t had time to replace my board since last time it got smashed. No time to skate anymore, anyways.”

Peter snickered, “Sounds like board smashing was a common thing for you. I bet I could have kicked your ass at the skate park.”

“So many cool boards lost, sadly. Now? I bet you  **could** kick my ass. But back when I still practiced, no way! I’d have kicked  **your** ass!” Sam boasted, plating Peter’s omelette and working on his own.

“You were  **that** good huh?” Peter grinned. “What else did you like to do? Or was it just skating?”

Peter breathed in deeply, savoring the delicious scent of Sam’s cooking. His mouth was watering as he eyed his omelette lustfully.

“Totally. I kicked all the ass,” Sam boasted. “Hmmm, taught myself Morse Code, brushed up on my calculus, and, uh. Worked out.”

Worked out sounded so  **lame** , but he couldn’t exactly say ‘Flew around the universe and got into trouble’.

“What about you, Big Shot? Any other hobbies besides giving Doctor Storm new ulcers?” Sam teased.

“Heh, uh I worked out too,” Peter said, with a shrug, “But honestly I was mostly sciencing. And reading. Yeah that’s right, I know. I totally  **earned** this nerd cred,” he moved in to nuzzle at Sam again and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Sam leaned into the kiss, then laughed.

“Oh man, not  **reading** . What a giant fucking nerd you are. Reading  **words** . I bet there were so many words they had to put them in a book!” Sam said, barely suppressing giggles as he ribbed Peter goodnaturedly.

“Sometimes there were so many they had to put them in more than one book,” Peter whispered conspiratorially. Then he swatted Sam’s naked ass and moved towards the bar, “Come on Chef Boyardee, feed me feed me. And tell me more about the magical land of Arizona.”

“I fed you, I fed you!” Sam yelped. He shook his spatula threateningly at Peter before turning back to tend to his omelette.

“Arizona is hardly… okay actually sometimes there was magic,” Sam reflected, then shrugged, “But whatever. I had a girl there for a while, but-” Sam shrugged and tried to smile as if it wasn’t anything, he added with a shrug, “talk too much, weird hours.

“Definitely too much for a couple of teenagers to keep up with!” Sam added, deflecting. He shouldn’t have even brought Carrie up. Major faux paux. Ugh. No need to add that they’d been nineteen when she’d finally had enough of his superheroing.

“So you’re from here, you stay here all your life or did you get a chance to go out and see the world?” Sam asked, plating his own omelette.

Peter frowned, but let it go. Privately he thought that he’d deal with all the weird hours in the world for Sam, but he guessed not everyone was used to this kind of lifestyle.

“Nope. I’m a plain old boring New Yorker through and through. I’ve never been anywhere else,” he said, taking a mouthful of omelette and moaning happily at the taste.

Sam rolled his eyes at Peter’s moaning. Though inside he felt extremely pleased. He did appreciate Peter’s efforts to let him know what he thought of his food. Even if they were completely silly.

“S'r'sly,” Peter swallowed, grinning at Sam, “Never been outside of New York. Damn those eggs are good.”

“Well, it’s a big world out there,” Sam said. Though really, Earth was pretty small. He added smugly, “Of course they’re good. I cooked them.”

“Mmm I love it when you're all smug,” Peter said fondly, making eyes at Sam over his plate. Sam felt his chest swell at Peter, his  **boyfriends** (!) affection. He leaned his lower back against the counters and ate his own food, hoping his blush wasn’t obvious.

His blush was totally obvious. And totally adorable.

“Maybe, someday you can convince this city boy to go adventuring. I bet Arizona is nice, I wouldn't mind seeing it sometime,” Peter said, feeling ridiculously happy at the thought.

“If you really wanna be bored out of your mind, sure,” Sam said, amused. “There’s plenty of way better places on Earth.”

Sam didn’t realize how weird that sounded until  **after** he’d already said it.  _ Schlag _ .

“Like Tokyo, a big city guy like you should do just great in Tokyo. And London, umm, Amsterdam and Sval- no you probably wouldn’t like being so far away from everything… Stockholm, maybe,” Sam reflected. Maybe he could distract him from how weird saying ‘on Earth’ was if he got him interested in somewhere to go?

Sam hurriedly ate more of his omelette. Stupid  _ flark’ng  _ mouth. Stupid saying things without thinking.

“Hmm I could be convinced to go anywhere, as long as you plan on coming with me,” Peter said, happily oblivious to Sam's panic. Sam bit back a sigh of relief as Peter seemed to not notice his slip up.

“We can make plans,” Sam agreed, “You like nerd shit, we’ll find places with, like, observatories and fancy museums. Though…”

Sam frowned.

“The Met is pretty fancy, I dunno if you’d actually like- Oh! We can go to the Smithsonian!”

“Bestill my heart, you’re gonna take me to museums?” Peter trilled, “I’d say you were just trying to get into my pants but we kinda passed that step already.”

Peter eyed Sam from head to toe and back up, enjoying the view. He didn’t even try to hide his considering look as he thought seriously about whether or not Sam would be able to go for another round. Sam set his plate in the sink and sighed faux-sadly.

“What a shame I’m gonna have to wash this apron,” he said, tsking as he shook his head, “Just got it clean again, too.”

“Mm you should probably take it off then since it’s all  **dirty** ,” Peter said, biting his lip and giving Sam a very tempting look. Sam grinned back at Peter.

“Really? You ready again already,” Sam said, then licking his lips he added, “slut?”

“Yes sir. Always for you sir,” Peter said back teasingly. He still wasn’t sure enough to say it without giggling, but the sentiment was honest. Sam grinned back at Peter. Peter’s embarrassed giggling was too adorable. Excited and nervous and eager all at once. Sam nodded at Peter’s plate.

“You all done, slut? You’re gonna need your energy, don’t want you passing out,” Sam drawled. Even though  **he** was the one with still empty balls. Still, he'd give Peter what he wanted. He deserved it.

“Mhmm. All finished. You filled me up real good,” Peter replied, his blush bright and smile brighter. He was trying to smirk, but the happiness and nerves made that impossible.

“Good, we’re gonna need to set some rules,” Sam said. Peter’s eagerness was nice. He just hoped he could keep him happy. He walked over to Peter, taking his plate.

“Since this is your first time, you can stop me by sayin’ no. And we’ll need to establish safe words,” Sam said. He gave his hips a little swing as he walked away from Peter to put his plate in the sink.

Peter watched Sam go, licking his lips.

“Um… I don't think we're gonna need safe words. No is all I need. I don't, I mean there's not a situation where you won't stop for no…”

Peter fidgeted nervously, wishing Sam wasn't so far away for this conversation. Sam held back his relief at that. He  **hated** being dom in  **that** way. Though he didn't have much experience being gentler, he'd do his best. For Peter. He smiled and turned back around.

“Yeah, we can save the safe words for later,” Sam agreed. He lead Peter back into his bedroom.

“Now, is there anything you know you don’t want to try?” Sam asked, sitting down on his bed. Peter sat beside him, snuggling in close and pressing his face against Sam's shoulder.

“Probably? I don't really know a lot about this stuff,” Peter admitted, “I just like knowing what you want me to do, and I like the idea of being yours.”

Sam wrapped his arm around Peter’s waist. Really, he didn't know a whole lot about this either. Just what he'd had done to him, and what some of his other partners had wanted.

“Mmm, that’s good. I like you being mine, too,” Sam said, “Which leads us to the next bit. What else do you like? Being called slut annnd?”

Peter giggled nervously, “What else is there to like?”

“Heh, lots. Like spanking, being tied up, that kinda stuff,” Sam explained. Peter shook his head immediately.

“No. Neither of those,” he said. He wondered if that was what Sam wanted. If he'd be disappointed that Peter wouldn't do it. The thought made him nervous. He wanted to make Sam happy but…

“That’s cool. I don’t like doing that stuff. It’s, uh, not for me,” Sam said, relieved. It was what most of his subs had liked, the stuff they expected, “I like things rough, but not, like… not like that.”

“Okay,” Peter said, relief clear in his voice. He pressed kisses to Sam's neck as he went on, “How about you tell me what you like?”

“Uh, what **I** like?” Sam said, trying to hide his confusion. Usually when he was the Sir he’d do what his Sir had done to make him cum. But Peter didn’t want  **any** of that. Peter didn’t like anything even  **hinting** at being forced. Not that Sam had  **liked** doing that, it was just what he knew.

“I like you,” Sam said, then thought back, “I like you being my slut. I like you licking up our cum offa me. Like you begging for me… like you callin’ me sir.”

Peter nuzzled him softly. “Yeah. I like those things too.”

Peter scooted over, straddling Sam's lap. Peter looked into Sam's eyes, “Wanna know what I like the most though?” 

“Tell me,” Sam said, licking his lips as he met Peter’s nervous, excited, adoring gaze. Sam very much wanted to know what Peter liked the most. Sweet Peter deserved to be happy.

Peter leaned in, breathing his next words against Sam's lips, “Kissing you.”

He wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and gently rolled his hips against Sam's apron covered lap.

“Making you feel good,” he went on, kissing him again and again, “Making you happy.”

Sam sighed contentedly into Peter’s kisses.

“You’re unbelievable, Pete,” Sam said, grinning a bit stupidly up at him.

“No, you,” Peter said back, then added between warm kisses, “Do you wanna go again? Or just make out for a while."

“Mmm, I’ll get you off until you’re finished,” Sam said, running his hands up and down Peter’s back. Peter made a soft sound, getting harder at those words. "You want to try some more sub stuff now?" he asked, carding his hand through Peter's hair.

“Yes please. Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it,” Peter breathed, using all of his willpower to stay sitting back and wait for instructions rather than leaning forward to kiss Sam again, “I want to be good for you.”

“You are good, Pete. So good,” Sam sighed, then gently, “Take off my apron.”

Peter nodded, his hands immediately moving to undo the apron ties. He was aware of every moment his fingers brushed against Sam's skin. Every rise and fall of Sam's chest, every warm breath he took. He slid back so that he could pull the apron off fully, then waited with dark eyes for another command.

“Good,” Sam said, since Peter seemed worried. This was so different from the ones that wanted to be tied up and… he balked at the memories. No need for that now. But how  **else** could he make Peter happy? He seemed to really like something as simple as taking off his clothes.

“Look at how dirty that apron is. What a mess you made this morning, slut,” Sam said, sounding confident even though he wasn’t sure about something so gentle.

“Guess I forgot to lick it all up off of you,” Peter chuckled lowly. He couldn’t help but lean forward and nuzzle at Sam’s neck again. Sam shivered at Peter's words. 

Well, Peter seemed to like that. Okay. Being gentler like this was easier for Sam, too.

“Why don’t you put that in the laundry? It’s the least you could do,” Sam said, nodding at the basket. Peter nodded again, smiling adoringly. He hopped up and rushed to the basket in the corner of Sam’s room to toss the apron in.

Sam thought. What else could he order Peter to do to make him happy? This felt... weird, being so gentle like this. Weird but good. But weird.

“Do you wanna have a shower?” Peter asked, feeling a little shy, “I could wash off all the cum I missed before.”

A shower  **did** sound good.

“Hmm, I guess you got  **me** dirty too, huh, slut?” Sam fake pondered.

“Yes sir,” Peter agreed earnestly, “Next time I’ll lick it  **all** up for you.”

Sam felt a thrill of excitement at the promise.

“Good slut,” Sam said in approval, taking delight in Peter's happy little hip wiggle.

“We could both stand a shower,” Sam agreed.

Peter offered Sam his hand to help him up and led him to the bathroom, kissing him the whole way. He really,  **really** wanted to just pick him up. He wanted Sam to wrap his legs around his waist, let him kiss him against the bathroom wall while the water warmed up. But he had to settle for now. Normal guys definitely couldn't hold their partners against the wall effortlessly. He dutifully turned on the shower, then looked with eager eyes to Sam.

This was… nice, Sam reflected. Peter was so  **happy** doing this simple stuff. It almost felt like cheating, or doing it wrong. It was different and confusing.  Sam looked around the bathroom, eyes landing on the empty towel rack.

“We're gonna need clean towels,” Sam said, a bit cooly. Trying to get that weirdness to leave.

Peter grabbed them both a towel.

“Are you happy? Is this okay?” Peter checked in, bringing him the towels.

"Yeah, yeah this is good," Sam said, he took the towels and almost hung them on the drying rack. But stopped. Peter seemed overly worried, he was so  **in tune** with him. It was different, very different than any of his other subs, "I'm not used to being so gentle, sorry. You're doing great."

"I want you to have fun too, Sam. We don't have to-"

"No, it's okay. I  **like** this, it's just different 's all," Sam said, reaching out to caress Peter's cheek. Then he held out the towels. Peter did seem to enjoy this simple stuff.

"Hang them up there," Sam said, nodding at the rack next to the shower.

Peter obeyed, hanging the towels and turning back to Sam to nuzzle against him.

"This is good?" Sam asked, reaching up to pet Peter's hair.

“I love it,” Peter told him truthfully.

Sam hummed happily at that. Peter enjoyed it and  **that** was all that mattered. Who cares what his Sir had thought about doing it this way? He'd been an asshole anyways.

“I love the way you look at me like I'm something special. The way you touch me and…” Peter blushed, feeling shy.

"It's 'cause you  **are** special," Sam said kissing him softly. He couldn't resist the smirk and soft growl, "You're mine."

Of  **course** Peter was special. He was his boyfriend, which was still amazing. But more than that he was funny, sweet, and everything great and good. He was why Sam did what he did. Why he put on the helmet and fought to keep the galaxy safe.

"Yours," Peter said, soft and breathless. Then after a moment, hesitatingly, "Shower?"

Sam leaned into him, then nodded at the shower, "How's the water? Warm enough yet?"

Peter reached out to test it. He nodded, then giggled and said, "Yes Sir."

Sam stepped into the shower. Most of his stress and anxiety melt away as Peter began to wash him.

Peter scrubbed him diligently, smiling softly the whole while. This didn't feel forced, it didn't feel unnatural and stiff like he'd always assumed something like this would. It just felt nice. He liked doing things for Sam, and Sam liked doing things for him. And now that they realized that dynamic had the potential to get them off well... Peter was excited.

"Ready to rinse?" Peter asked, having finished massaging soap over Sam's skin.

Sam sighed and nodded, he was already so much more relaxed. Belatedly, he added, "Rinse me."

Peter grinned and stepped out of the spray, letting it run over Sam's body.

"Yes Sir," Peter said happily. He helped the spray, gently running his hands down Sam's soft skin to ease the soap away.

Sam hummed, content. Peter's hands rubbed away the rest of his stress. Peter still wanted him, wanted to **be** **with** him. It seemed amazing that sweet Peter was okay with him having to kill people. Most humans didn't consider aliens people, true, but... last night...

Sam sighed. Both at Peter's attentions and his own thoughts. He needed to talk to someone. As much as he wanted to talk to Thor he wasn't sure he should go to him first. He was very big on letting Earth govern itself. Wanting to let Earth settle on it's own planetary government before taking the next steps in getting Asgardian laws enforced planet wide.

"You're so gorgeous," Peter breathed out, awed, cutting through Sam's musings. He was the luckiest guy in the world. Sam was perfect, every single inch of him something special. His scars, his fit and toned body with that little bit of tummy that Peter wanted to kiss, the trail of dark hair that lead down to a spot Peter was becoming intimately familiar with now. He smiled, trailing his fingers down that trail. Sam was still soft. Peter had a feeling that he would be spent for a while to come, so he moved down to his thighs instead, washing away the suds.

Sam hummed again. Really, he wasn't much to look at. Though hearing Peter praise him made his heart flutter. The scars across his back itched sympathetically as he watched Peter rinse him clean. He tried to squelch down the urge to fight whoever had dared to hurt this sweet man.

Peter ran his hands over Sam's body as he stood back up.

"All clean, sir," Peter said, a bit shyly. 

"Mmmm, good job," Sam said. He eyed the blushing Peter in speculation. Really, he should be just as exhausted, not hard and ready to go.

Maybe Peter was a mutant? It could explain the scars... A lynch mob barely escaped... Sam turned his thoughts away. Peter would tell him, or not. It didn't matter. He was even still basically human, which should make his mom happy.

Not that any of his alien flings had been serious enough to even tell her about. But Peter was waiting patiently through his woolgathering.

"You're all wet, but still so dirty," Sam said. Peter ducked his head and nodded. He hadn't soaped himself up, just Sam. 

"Yes, sir, I'm a dirty slut," Peter said, gaining confidence as their scene went on. He was still blushing, but the giggles seemed to be out now, though the way he'd said 'slut' so nervously was absolutely adorable.

"Mmm, yes you are. So dirty," Sam said, letting his eyes roam Peter's lean, wet body. He was so perfect.

Peter squirmed nervously under Sam's gaze. His blush was already spreading down his neck as he bit his lip and looked down.

"Should I clean myself up Sir?" he asked, keeping his eyes down. He felt like he was about to burst out in giggles again at any moment, but now the arousal and desire to please was stronger than the impulse to laugh. Whatever Sam asked of him, he'd do it happily.

"Hmmm, no," Sam said, voice low. "I want to watch you jerk it for me."

Peter blushed to the tips of his ears, his wide startled eyes flying up to meet with Sam's. Oh gods, Sam wanted to watch him? He wanted to stand there and have nerdy Peter Parker jerk off in front of him. For him. Put on a show. Peter swallowed.

"I- yes. Yes Sir. I'd um... I'd like to do that for you," he said, biting his lip nervously. He let his hand drift down to rest low on his stomach, looking to Sam for approval.

"Good. You're a good slut," Sam said, eyes dark and voice hungry. This was a sight he was going to definitely remember on the long cycles out patrolling.

Sweet, shy Peter wet, water running over his perfect body. His hair plastered to his head, blushing and looking at him for permission. Making sure he was being good for him. This was  **so** much better than the other kind of domming. Definitely something he was looking forward to more of.

Sam's praise encouraged Peter, melting away a little bit of the shyness. Peter trailed his hand down his treasure trail, going slow. Until he had orders otherwise he was going to draw this out, make it fun for Sam to watch. He carefully avoided touching his straining cock, moving his hand down to his balls instead. His chest moved as his breathing deepened, his nipples hard and eyes dark and wanting as he watched Sam watch him.

He cupped his sack, massaging himself lightly. He imagined it was Sam's hand touching him, toying with him. Avoiding his cock purposefully to get him keyed up. He couldn't stop the gentle groan from escaping his lips. 

"What a good slut," Sam purred, watching Peter tease himself with hungry eyes. The water running over his body highlighting his lean muscles.

"Thank you Sir," Peter muttered happily, pressing his thumb against the soft skin behind his balls and arching his hips. He was so nervous. Touching himself had always been something done out of need, never a show. He couldn't bring himself to grasp his cock yet, more comfortable teasing and waiting, hoping Sam would push him past his nervousness.

"Stop wasting water, slut, and show me how you like it," Sam commanded.

"Sorry Sir, anything you want," Peter moaned as he swirled a thumb over the head of his cock, his fist tight around his length.

Peter was surprised at himself. At how quickly his hand flew to his cock at Sam's demand. How the commanding tone of Sam's voice cleared his head of all misgivings. His shyness dissipating to be replaced by pleasure as he stroked his wet length, tilting his head back into the spray of the shower.

"Good, that's good," Sam said. Peter shuddered at his praise. He wanted more. He brought his free hand up to his chest, fingers circling his nipple. 

"Thank you Sir," Peter moaned. How could he get more of Sam's //adj// voice praising him? He teased at his nipple as he stroked his cock, panting and whining wantonly. Sam's eyes on him as he jerked it felt good. Watching his face as he watched him touch himself was very nice. But his voice would be even nicer.

"Am I doing okay Sir? Is this what you want?" he asked, voice soft and breathy.  

"You're doing great," Sam reassured.

Peter couldn't help but whine softly in frustration. Doing great was good sure but... greedily, Peter wanted  **more.** He just had no idea how to ask for that. He had no idea if he even should, or if he should just stay quiet and enjoy how nice things already were. He didn't  **need** Sam to talk dirty. But gods did he ever crave it. 

With his friend Flash, the only ever person he'd really had anything close to a sexual  **relationship** with it'd all been about quick tumbles, breathless exploration of each other's bodies and learning how to get off as quickly as possible. There was never time or inclination to get into kinks or wants or needs. They'd been about learning to connect, reaching out in their combined loneliness, having a good time, and then getting back to work.

Now Peter wanted more. He wanted to know everything about Sam, and wanted to give Sam everything he had. He wanted to tell Sam what he desperately wanted, but he didn't know  **how.**

 

Sam watched him with dark eyes. Peter was still looking nervous, even as he stroked his cock before him. 

"You're so fuckin' sexy, Pete, so damn hot. You look so good, all wet and hard. Such a good slut, jerking it for me."

Peter seemed to practically glow under Sam's praise. The nervousness was completely gone now, so Sam kept it up.

"Showing me what you like, fuck yeah, I wish I had a picture, you're so fuckin' pretty Pete."

Peter shuddered. Sam’s words were bringing him closer than he’d thought possible. It felt so good, hearing someone as good and as pure as Sam say such things about him. It was nearly overwhelming.  He'd never felt anything like this before. Never felt so special and attractive and  **good.**

 

“I-I’m so close, Sir,” Peter gasped.  The thought of Sam taking pictures of him doing this was as hot as it was astonishing. The thought of taking pictures of Sam had appeal too. But right now he was more focused on watching Sam watch him. He needed commands, needed to know what Sam wanted so he could live up to what Sam thought of him in some small way. 

  
  


“Yeah, that’s it, slut, cum for me. Show me how pretty you can be,” Sam said. Peter was biting his lip, eyes unfocused. The water running over his body in rivulets drew Sam's eyes to his hand pumping his cock. He really was picture perfect.

 

His words seemed to do the trick of finally pushing Pete over the edge. The gorgeous man in front of him shuddered once, cumming on his stomach with a soft moan that sounded like sam’s name. 

 

“Thank you for letting me cum sir,” Peter panted almost as soon as the last wave of pleasure receded. 

 

He looked up at Sam from under his lashes, his hand still pumping idly at his spent cock. He knew how he must look, after all he'd used his muscles and his face before to get what he wanted. But for the first time with Sam he felt like someone was seeing deeper than the superficial and still somehow finding him worthy. It was a heady feeling. One that made him want to show off even more just for Sam's enjoyment. 

 

“Can I?” He asked, gathering the cum left on his stomach after the spray of the shower and bringing his slick fingers up to his own lips. Waiting for permission. 

 

“Fuck,” Sam swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. The sight of Peter asking permission to taste his own cum was so hot. His cock stirred, trying valiantly to give its opinion on the matter. 

 

“Yes, slut, lick it up,” Sam commanded.

 

Peter ran his tongue delicately from the base of his finger to the tip before sliding it into his mouth. He licked at it, looking to Sam for approval the whole time.

 

“That's a good slut, lick it all up,” Sam growled, then softer, “You did good, Pete. Now clean us up.” 

 

Peter made quick work of soaping them both up and rinsing them off, preening at the little sounds and words of praise Sam gave him. His cheeks were tinted pink throughout, and stayed that way even after they stepped out of the shower.

 

Sam nodded at the towels hanging up on the towel rack.

 

Peter bowed his head, grabbing the towel and rubbing the wetness from Sam's skin. And if he took his time gently drying some of Sam's more sensitive areas, well it was just for the sake of being thorough. 

 

Peter finished toweling Sam dry. He thought Sam might like him kneeling for him, but the bathroom was just too small.

 

“Good, good job,” Sam said, reaching up to scritch Peter just behind his ear.

 

Peter was so adorable. The way he closed his eyes and the soft, pleased sound he made at the small gesture made Sam want to spoil him. He was so receptive. So happy for even the slightest affectionate gesture.  It was both immensely satisfying and a little bit worrying. Who  **wouldn’t** want to touch Peter every chance they got?

 

“Dry yourself off, too. I don’t want water all over my place you know,” Sam said, tone light and teasing.

 

Peter grinned. Sam seemed happy. It felt good to have done a good job. It felt good to dry himself off like he was told. Good to do something for Sam, like a small penance for all the ways Neuro had hurt him in the past. 

 

Not that it was completely unselfish. He was definitely enjoying himself too. But it counted towards his new goal of making Sam as happy as he could for as long as possible to make up for his sins.

 

“Good, good, go put those towels in the laundry basket,” Sam ordered. It was weird how happy Peter seemed doing these little things. Weird but nice. He was such a kind, sweet man, he deserved to be happy. And this was easy stuff, no having to steel himself to do the things that’d been done to him. 

 

If this simple stuff made Pete happy, he could do it all day. Though really, he wasn’t into the whole twenty-four seven  slaves pets.

 

“Yes sir,” Peter said happily, doing as Sam said. 

 

Sam strode lazily from the bathroom as Peter stepped out to put away the dirty towels. He idly contemplated getting dressed, or at least pants, and decided against it.

 

Peter knelt before him, head bowed. A very pleasing sight for sure, but really, he just wanted to lay in bed with him and watch questionably good movies. He definitely seemed like the type of guy that’d enjoy mocking bad movies. And while Sam did have to head out to Asgard today, he had a bit of time left yet.

 

“Good job, very //wordofpraise//,” Sam said, then, “Wanna lay in bed and watch shitty movies?”

 

Peter tilted his head, unsure of what to do. Sam seemed to want to relax, but was he supposed to keep being submissive? He'd rather just relax now with his boyfriend but…

 

“Yes sir,” he said tentatively. “I'd like that sir.” 

 

Sam gave his head a scritch.

 

“Not gonna lie, it’s still hot when you call me sir, but i don’t really wanna do that stuff all the time. Do you really wanna watch bad movies in bed now?” Sam said, moving to sit down on the bed.

 

Peter grinned just a tad dopily at that and crawled up onto the bed. “Okay, not gonna lie, I'm kinda relieved. That was gonna get real awkward real fast when I met your friends and family. Not to mention how hard it'd be on the knees,” he chuckled as he snuggled up beside Sam, wrapping an arm around him. “Movies sound fantastic. You tired me out,” he added while he nosed at Sam's damp hair.

 

Sam chuckled, delighted. Peter was already talking about meeting his friends and family. Jokingly sure, but… how nice it would be, to take this sweet nerd home to Mama. Let her know he wasn’t off galavanting around with questionable aliens any longer. She’d be pleased, he was sure.

 

“That would be a tad awkward,” he agreed with a grin.

 

Peter giggled into his hair.

 

“Yeah, no kidding. So what’ll it be Chef Superstar? Really bad movie number one or really bad movie number two?” Peter asked as Sam turned on the TV.

 

* * *

 

Peter made a soft sound. The kind that only comes in sleep. His chest rose and fell steadily, his cheek was pressed warm and soft against Sam's shoulder. 

 

He was beautiful. Adorable. A little bit drooly, but Sam could deal. 

 

It was weird how just as his hero life was turning into a nightmare, his personal life was a dream come true.

 

Sam’s eyes felt heavy, they were on their second crap movie now. He  **had** been right, Peter  **did** enjoy snarking at the movies. But with Peter laying on him, asleep and trusting; warm and innocent and good, he was having a hard time finding the energy to get back to the reality of his life as Nova.

 

Sam dozed,  with Peter in his arms and a smile on his face. 

  
  
  
  



	12. Impulse Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Little General Monk_   
>  _Sat upon a trunk_   
>  _Eating a crust of bread;_   
>  _There fell a hot coal_   
>  _And burnt into his clothes a hole,_   
>  _Now little General Monk is dead._   
>  _Keep always from the fire,_   
>  _If it catch your attire_   
>  _You too, like General Monk, will be dead._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> \- Traditional English Nursery Rhyme (No Longer In Common Use), _Rhymes for the Nursery_ , 1824

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Minor character death, corpses and goop associated with corpses

Sam pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Peter’s neck. His deep, even breathing telling him that he’d fallen asleep. He slowly crept out of bed, trying not to disturb Peter. His ass and hips ached pleasantly. A reminder of Peter's thorough fucking. His helmet would soon put an end to the ache and pain, but the bruises. The bruises he wanted to keep. And not just because explaining their sudden disappearance would be difficult.

 

As he snuck to retrieve his helmet, he reflected that it wasn’t that he **couldn’t** tell Peter he was going to work. Just… He’d rather not face all that involved, just yet. He had to have a chat with Sif this cycle, hopefully she was still in Asgard. If she said what he **thinks** she’ll say he’s going to be very, **very** busy the rest of this cycle. Which means he wasn't going to be here for Peter for over a day. His stomach sank at that. Some hero he was turning into, couldn't even tell his boyfriend 'bye'. 

 

He grabbed a bag he kept handy, not his everyday one. This was his go bag, filled with a clean change of clothes and Earth cash. Mostly Euros, Loonies, Pounds, Yen and Dollars, though other currency he didn't bother to remember the name of was in there as well. He grabbed his helmet and put it on in the living room. The glow should be out of the way enough to not disturb Peter.

 

The trip to Asgard was fast, either through the Rainbow Bridge or a hyper jump. He just had to figure if this was an official visit or not. He fished out a pencil and sheet of paper from his pocket pocket dimensions and wrote a note, leaving it easy to find for Peter.

 

_Pete,_

_Work called, couldn’t say no. There’s some food in the fridge. I should be back after next sunrise but it might run long. You're the best, hope I see you soon,_

_❤_

_Sam_

 

He hesitated at the window, looking back inside behind him. Peter was still sleeping. Eyes closed and breathing even. Sam steeled himself and pulled the window closed.

  

* * *

 

Peter was concerned. Waking up alone was never fun. And to make things worse, it had been **hours** and Sam **still** hadn’t answered **any** of his texts. He wasn’t sure what that **meant**. Was he off world? With a sigh he’d given up on waiting and headed out as Neuro. After all, every second he wasted was a second one of the creeps he planned on killing could be out hurting someone.

 

He’d arrived at the place he'd picked out for tonight, but something didn’t feel quite right. His spidey sense wasn't pinging but something was… off. He made a mental note to be extra careful tonight. 

 

Breaking and entering was pretty commonplace in Peter’s life.

 

Murder? Yeah that was common too.

 

Crawling into a room to see your mark already bloody on the floor? Yeah… that one he didn’t get to often.

 

“Holy shit, someone did a number on you,” he whistled, taking in the scene. His victim of the day was lying broken on the ground, his spine obviously wrecked and some sort of sigil singed into his skin, “Looks like someone’s stepping in on my territory. Man I kinda feel less special now honestly. I thought I was the only serial murderer in New York. That's a big deal you know, you make it here and you can make it anywhere.”

 

Carefully he crawled down the wall, getting a closer look.

 

Now it was always possible that an **actual** psycho had **just so happened** to kill his mark before he could get there. Sure. Anything was possible! But that weird spacey looking mark, the way the injuries matched what had happened at that studio the night before…

 

Nova was killing his victims.

 

Or at least **victim**. Singular. There was only one way to be sure about the others though. After all, he hadn't exactly told Nova, or Sam, where he was going to be tonight.

 

Neuro sighed and set about prepping the room to burn. Another fine mess of Sam's he had to clean up. He hoped he wasn't going to make this a habit.

 

* * *

 

One safely evacuated, brightly burning apartment complex and web swinging trip to visit victim number two later, and Peter was sure. Sam was hunting down the pedophiles from the last asshole’s database and murdering them. Wellllll, Sam might have qualms with calling it **murder**. He **had** said something about honor and Asgard. But Sam in his helmet was no way a fair match against a normal human.

 

Well, **damn**. He had **not** at **all** been expecting **this**. Maybe a bit of looking the other way, or, maybe, **maybe** , helping him locate more bastards and bitches needing killing. But that hadn’t been a **real** expectation, just a bit of fantasy. And **now**. Now Nova was on a rampage. **Without him**.

It was completely unfair! He'd **helped** him find these bastards! He wanted to kill them **too**! Hadn't he been **good**? Didn't he **deserve** to sink his stingers into these fuckers? Ditched  **and** left out. It was a sad life.

 

He needed to hunt Nova down. Have another chat. But the helmet made him so **fast** _._ Would he kill every single fucker on that list in one night? There was no way his little spidery self was fast enough to check all the addresses in one night. But he could sure as hell try.

 

Neurotoxin swung towards the next address, keeping his eyes on the skies for a brilliant blue glow too, just in case.

 

* * *

 

Sam had, indeed, been stopping Neurotoxin’s future victims from hurting children  **ever** again. Sif had not only said what he'd thought, she'd _das't_ near come with him. Talking her down had been something he wasn't even sure he could ever do again. She **had** forced him to get official sanction from Frigga. Since the protection of children and the weak was her domain, and Odin would defer to her rulings. 

 

Sam had even been able to gather further information on other monsters needing to be put down. Thanks to his helmet scanning all the electronics powered on for further evidence with but a thought. 

 

There were just **too many** to end all in one night without the Avengers getting wind of this. Hundreds of humans dead tended to draw them out of their other problems real quick. But he had time for… For his helmet to pick up an all units emergency call to an apartment fire. Address being one of the buildings of one of the subhuman things he’d put down.

 

 _Das’t. Das’t flark’ng_ spider. What was his _flark’ng_ **deal** with **fire**? That hadn’t even been the **first** beast Sam had killed tonight. It must have been the first one on Neuro’s list though.

 

“How can the police find the evidence if you **burn it**   **all up you**   **stupid**   _**flark'ng** _   **spider**?!” Nova snarled. The dead woman before him said nothing. He huffed, reaching down to burn the Asgardian runes for ‘violator’ across her face. He had learned tonight that humans twitch an awful, awful lot when you break their necks. It had not been a fluke with the first one. It was extremely disturbing. Not at all like any other species he’d killed. Usually the twitching meant they had regenerative abilities. Not a good thing for staying dead.

 

Of course he didn’t usually kill people up close and personal. He usually killed people at a distance. By blowing holes in their ships and letting them die from the cold vacuum of space. If their species **could** die in space. But, blowing their reactors usually made sure no space breathers could survive. It was funny. Well, not funny haha, but funny stupid. The Avengers flipped their shit if you even **think**  about killing a human, but mass murder hundreds of thousands of aliens and you’re golden. Sam sighed, floating out through the broken window. He had a spider to catch.

 

And maybe, just maybe beat some sense into.

 

* * *

 

Neurotoxin had little spots squared away all throughout the city.

 

This one was particularly villainous looking. The huge warehouse looked abandoned from the outside. And **hell** , a little bit from the inside too when he isn’t using it to store things. Right now it was filled with a few random bits of space furniture that he hadn’t managed to sell yet. They were set up like a little living room, just because he thought it was funny.

 

He was laying on his back across one of the little tables, staring up at metal beams across the ceiling, his search for Nova having been a bust. For someone who glows, the space hero sure could be hard to find. Neuro blew out a breath, annoyed.

 

Sam still hadn’t answered his texts as Peter either. He was actually starting to get worried. He was still staring up at the ceiling when his Spidey Sense kicked up a tingle storm. Not hard enough to suggest someone was about to imminently unalive him but… something was definitely about to happen.

 

Nova pushed the weighted warehouse door open easily.

 

“Neuro, I know you’re here,” Nova growled, voice low. Glowing form framed in the dark-ish New York night. It was quite a dramatic entrance. Quill and Drax would definitely approve of it.

 

Neurotoxin approved as well. He clapped from his spot perched up in the rafters, the sound echoing eerily throughout the mostly empty warehouse. The sound seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, but Neuro doubted the little sound trick would keep Nova from finding him. And from the way his whole body was tingling, he doubted Sam was here to make out. He shrunk back deeper into the shadows, knowing it wouldn't help against that fucking helmet. But it’s better than nothing.

 

“Very dramatic entrance! How’d you know I was here Sunshine? Have you been watching me? S’a little creepy don’t you think?” Neuro pulled a few spider-bombs from his pouches, ready to retaliate if Sam decided to strike. Not to mention the booby traps he had rigged up. Heh. Traps.

 

“But wait! How rude of me! Allow me to welcome you to my parlor Super Nova! To what do I owe the pleasure? I kinda doubt you’re here for tea.”

 

Sam didn’t bother to answer Neuro on how he’d known to find him. Let him think what he wanted on that. His bloodlust was still up, and his first urge was to charge headlong into Neuro and tackle him down to the floor. That was a _das’t_ stupid, suicidal urge though, so instead he pulled the massive, heavily weighted warehouse doors closed. He didn’t want any random idiot stumbling in on an Avenger and a super villain having a ‘friendly’ little chat.

 

“Maybe I like tea, you don’t know,” Sam snarked back, trying to push back his murderous urges. Killing Neuro might be satisfying, but it wouldn’t help anything. Not now.

 

His first instinct was to float up high, but this was Neurotoxin’s safe house. One of many, if he was half as clever as he acted. With their history it was sure to have nasty surprises waiting just for him. Still, he didn’t want to walk. He floated further into the mostly empty warehouse.

 

“Then I'll fetch you a nice hot cup,” Neurotoxin chirped cheerfully. His spidey sense was clang clang clanging in a low buzz, but it didn't seem like the kind of intense vibration that meant Sam was about to spring.

 

The fact that Sam was setting it off at all was troubling. It felt wrong. Sam would never hurt him, not as Peter. He trusted him completely. But as Nova and Neuro he was ringing all of the alarm bells. It was unsettling.

 

“You could probably use the refreshment after that little murder spree huh?”

 

“I have my own ‘refreshments’ thanks,” Sam said, loudly sucking down some water from his suit’s reserves. This was why he was constantly getting lectures from the other Avengers. He just couldn’t stop provoking the villains. Even when he knew it was stupid he’d still push them.

 

Well. He wasn’t dead yet.

 

“And murder is a crime, which I was **not** committing thank you very much. I was **enforcing** the law, not breaking it.”

 

“Hey no arguments here. I appreciate the help,” Neuro said lightly, peering through the shadows at Nova with interest.

 

“I was actually coming in here to beat your ass for burning down the evidence that would get those monsters names ruined in the press,” Nova said, cracking his neck idly as if limbering up. Even though he really didn’t need to.

 

In reality the initial rush of anger and adrenaline fueled bloodlust had faded. He no longer, really, wanted to fight. He’d much rather check his phone and let Peter know everything was okay.

 

Hmm, Tuesday was coming up soon. He still needed to get with Stark and the FF on that civilian backstory clearance stuff. After all, Peter had trusted him enough to bring him into that part of his life. The thought made Sam itch even more to take out his phone. Gods how long had he been gone now?

 

“But it **has** been a really long cycle and I got things I’d rather be doing than kicking your crazy ass. Next time don’t burn down all the evidence, idiot.”

 

Neurotoxin huffed. “The fire is **important** Sparky. More important than letting **anyone** know the names of those sick pieces of shit,” he hissed vehemently.

 

He shook his head, letting the sudden rush of emotion ebb. “And anyways whooooo says you could beat me? And where the _fl_ -fuck did you get water in there? Do I even wanna know?”

 

No, of course Neuro wouldn’t make this easy. Ugh.

 

“It’s a space suit, use your proportional spider brains and figure it out,” Sam rolled his eyes, tilting his head just so to make sure the gesture wasn’t lost. Sam hummed thoughtfully, “Well, technically they **are** nameless now.”

 

“Oh ew,” Neurotoxin cut in wrinkling his nose.

 

Sam snorted at that.

 

“What, you mean you don’t squishify your victims and slurp them up? That’s way grosser. Though seriously, nevermind I think I grossed myself out now ugh,” Sam said gagging a bit at the mental image. “Please never tell me if you do that, oh man.”

 

“Heh ooooh okay I gotcha. We're gonna have a don't ask don't tell relationship. I dig it,” Neuro chuckled. Man that would be gross though. Thank goodness the spider bite hadn't done **that** to him.

 

“Ugh, this isn’t a relationship. And what does banging dudes have to do with anything, seriously,” Sam complained. He was subconsciously floating closer to Neuro as they bantered. Something about the way he was speaking was setting him at ease.

 

“Mmm, yeah okay, okay. Nothing, but it sure is fun,” he said, wishing suddenly more than ever that Sam knew who he was. They could be snuggled up in bed discussing this instead of in a cold bland warehouse. “But fine, fine, back on track. You wanted to beat me or something? And all over a little bitty bonfire too.”

 

“Beat you, kill you. Whatever. But why with the fire? I have a plan. It’s probably a good one. Why can’t you just let me handle this and you go back to your usual schtick?”

 

“Pfft. I'm not so scared Firefly. You're a good guy, and you clearly agree with my core values. I don't think you'd airlock me without more reason,” Neurotoxin said, chuckling a little. Sam was so **cute** sometimes when he was trying to be tough.

 

Sam sighed. _Das’t_ this bastard knew him way too well for his liking.

 

“You haven’t done anything under Asgardian law to warrant a death sentence,” Sam agreed. He squinted over at him and added, “That I know about.”

 

“See!” Neurotoxin said cheerfully. He shifted, considering.

 

“To answer your question though… this **is** my usual schtick,” he said after a beat, letting the teasing tone drop for something much more frank and honest. “This is what I do. I know you think I'm just some crazy spider, but I've been doing this for **years**. There's a method to my madness I promise you that.”

 

Sam groaned, rubbing at his temples under his helmet.

 

“Now! Now, you go all villain monologuey ‘you’ve convinced me to share my plans’, seriously? I just wanted to you stop burning shit for like a week!” Sam sighed after his outburst and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“Fine, you got me here, I’m listening. What is your ‘method’ that makes you totally different than all the other arsonists ever?” Sam tilted his head half away from Neuro, being as obnoxious as possible. Though not deliberately. He wanted to this this over with like five minutes ago and had all the patience of a fresh spark.

 

Neuro sighed, feeling very much unappreciated.

 

“Okay I'll give you the Sparknotes version shall I? Mr. HuffyPants.” Neurotoxin pouted comically, the effect ruined by his mask. The pout dissolved into a pleased grin when Sam actually huffed at that. Ugh, he was so adorable!

 

“So yeah, okay I’ll admit, my name is Neurotoxin and I might have a sliiiiiiiight problem with fire."

 

“Slight problem,” Sam snarked under his breath.

 

“What can I say? It burns so pretty,” he sighed happily. “So sue me.”

 

His voice dropped low and serious as he crawled forward enough that Sam was sure to see his mask through the shadows. “But the fire is… ugh this sounds stupid but there’s something about the chemical reaction, the way oxygen and fuel and heat all come together in this perfect cocktail to just raze everything to the ground. It’s… it’s purifying. And believe me purification is needed.”

 

Peter didn't pause, already too much on a roll to stop now. He was barely even breathing between words. Sam watched him uneasily. What he, himself, was doing was something like purification, too.

 

“The evidence you’re talking about… those pictures, and videos and words… they don’t **need** to be seen. They’ve been seen enough. This isn’t about those fuckers and their names and their bullshit stories! This is about the people, about the **kids** they’ve hurt. That evidence needs to be **eliminated** before any more eyes can see it. It’s the least I can do. I wasn’t fast enough to save them, but I sure as hell can be fast enough to make sure any record of that pain all goes up in smoke. It has to **burn** Nova. It has to burn instead of being immortalized in some fucking evidence locker after being combed over by-” he took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down.

 

“And in this particular case Sunshine… those kills **obviously** weren’t made by me. How long do you think it’d take your Avenger buddies to figure out that space symbol was yours huh? If you want to keep helping you have to be more careful. I get innocent people out, I make these fucks feel what it’s like to be helpless and hurting, I burn the buildings, I make sure someone finds the ashes and knows my crime has been committed. The Avengers or some other do-gooders come running to save any people or pets who didn’t get out. Everything’s kosher. There’s a process Space Boy. I do it like this for a reason.”

 

Sam frowned at that. It wasn’t always okay though.

 

“Is it really kosher, Red? You pull the alarm, sure. But how many deaf or disabled people smothered or burned up before we could get there? You really think **New Yorkers** would stop to help their crippled neighbors when there’s a fire? Seriously?”

 

Neurotoxin frowned. “That's why I upgraded to the explosions. Gets the heroes there fast enough to save anyone in danger. I put em in places people can't get to, carefully control the blasts. It's not perfect but just think about how many times you've saved people from my fires Bucket Brain. You even stop the fires before they do too much damage. We have a good system going here,” he said. He remembered the early days, leaping back into fires he himself had made to save people. He'd learned the hard way that most heroes didn't give a single fuck about common building fires half the time.

 

Sam shifted, again uneasy with how much sense Neurotoxin was making. He had saved quite a few critters and the occasional person from fires before. He unhappily remembered getting bitched at for ‘wasting’ his time with building fires. But when Johnny wasn’t busy he’d help too, and no one bitched at **him**.

 

He rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“Yeah, well, uh, I don’t think you’re gonna be able to set enough fires, this time.”

 

“Jesus Christ S-sparky, how many did you kill?” Neurotoxin crawled out from his perch to see him better. Sam tapped the tips of his index fingers together, grinning nervously.

 

“Oh, you know, likemaybetwelveatleast, but uh, some of them had already been, um, burned up. So at least not the whole list.”

 

“Twelve? At _least?!_ Fucking shit Turbo, do you always gotta go fast?! I mean I admire the dedication but… Christ shitting fuck shit,” Neurotoxin cursed, lowering himself on a web to hang at Nova’s level. “Did you burn that space thing into _all_ of them? I don't have time to burn _twelve_ before the Avengers- arghhh!”

 

He put his head in his hand, thinking.

 

“Hey! When your oathmom tells you to do the thing, you do the thing!” Sam said, posturing a bit defensively.

 

“Okay so you're a mommas boy, but you couldn't have spaced the kills out?! Heh, spaced,” Neuro took a moment to appreciate the pun despite the serious situation.

 

“I’m not a- okay no, I really am a momma’s boy,” Sam said, bringing his legs up to ‘sit’ and dropping his face into his palms. “Um, maybe. I dunno, she said ‘These nameless beasts deserve no mercy. Stop them before they can hurt innocents again’ so like,” Sam shrugged helplessly.

 

“Yeah she's right, no arguments here but… Fuck. Next time let me know so I can burn the evidence!” Neurotoxin copied Sam's posture as though it didn't take an immense amount of muscle strength to do. “We need to fix this. Ugh come on Sparkeroo I need you to be a hero!”

 

Sam worried at his lip. He **was** a hero.

 

Wasn’t he?

 

“I don’t see how killing humans is any different than killing kree or skrull,” Sam said, voice a bit smaller than he’d intended.

 

“No no, you're **good** Nova. Not what I meant. I mean I need those stick up their asses moral types to stay in the dark about your... methods.” Neuro looked into his eyes, wishing so badly that they could take off their mask and helmet for this conversation.

 

“You're, ugh fuck, you're a **good** guy. You're the most heroic hero I've **ever** met okay? I know it's hard to see that, having to work with scum like me, but you are. We just need to clean up this mess before any of your friends who aren't willing to do what needs to be done find it and decide they don't agree.”

 

“Thor has my back,” Sam said, sure and confident. He puffed up a bit at the thought. “We’re basically brothers, and it was his mom that gave me the orders anyways.”

 

He looked down at his crossed legs, and the ground below.

 

“I woulda talked to him but he’s on some vision quest thing. Sif wouldn’t let me not make it official, either,” Sam said, then sighed. He wasn’t **supposed** to burn the evidence up. Well, Asgardian law was served so it didn’t really matter on that end. It was for the other humans peace of mind, really.

 

The Avengers were supposed to be able to look at it when the time came. See the evidence. See how awful those monsters had been. Agree that Nova had been really **too** humane in their dueling. Breaking their necks was much too fast a death. But really commendable of him to exercise such restraint.

 

“Right of course. Like that's not gonna start a civil war,” Neuro sighed. Whatever. Sam's hero stuff was his business, as long as it didn't make their job more difficult. Which he **strongly** believed it would.

 

‘Civil War?’ Sam mouthed to himself. Suddenly, sinkingly remembering his identity wasn’t a secret to the Avengers. His mom and Kae could be made to pay for this. Stark would not be above claiming his whole family was unstable. Too dangerous for the power of the Nova Force. The shit Steve had to do to convince Stark to not tear apart half the planet to find Barnes had been crazy. And all he had to back him was a prince.

 

A prince whose duty was to protect this planet and always tried to work within Earth laws. Fuck. Fuck, _flark_ , _swkark’ng_ shit.

 

Neuro wanted to reach out and hold Sam. Part of him even wanted to apologize for dragging him into this mess, despite the fact that he was firmly convinced it was what was right.  Instead he hung there uselessly as Sam had a very obvious internal crisis.

 

“I know. If things were better Thor could explain, the Avengers would applaud and it'd be business as usual,” he said, trying to be kind without being creepy. “But that's not what’ll happen I can assure you of that. So it's your choice Sunshine. Is it fix it time or not? I want to burn the evidence but I can't do it without your speed, so it's up to you.”

 

Sam barely heard Neuro’s voice. Trying to figure out how to fix this himself. He was… he was special ops, Super Nova. Neuro said it jokingly, but he was, really. He could… he could **fix** this. Keep his family safe from the Avengers until he’d figured out what to do next. He **couldn’t** ignore Frigga’s orders. Not and stay allied to Asgard. Maybe he and Red could...

 

Sam swallowed.

 

Was he seriously considering working with a **super villain** over **his own team**?

 


	13. Creatures of night! Brought to light!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm looking through you, where did you go?_   
>  _I thought I knew you, what did I know?_   
>  _You don't look different, but you have changed_   
>  _I'm looking through you, you're not the same_
> 
>  
> 
> _Your lips are moving, I cannot hear_   
>  _Your voice is soothing, but the words aren't clear_   
>  _You don't sound different, I've learned the game_   
>  _I'm looking through you, you're not the same_
> 
> \- I'm Looking Through You, The Beatles

Nova closed his eyes, thinking on Neurotoxin's offer. Glow swirling a miasma of blacks and blues and whites as his emotions churned with his thoughts.

 

“Please tell me you aren't gonna explode or something,” Neurotoxin said, trying to lighten the mood. Before he could stop himself he was reaching forward, placing a gloved hand on Nova’s arm. “Not to rush you but we **are** on a time crunch here. It's all up to you. To burn or not to burn?”

 

“Huh? What?” Sam said, blinking at Neuro’s upsidedown mask in a moment of confusion. His glow settled down. Mind made up.

 

“Yeah, uh, I guess you’re the expert on this _bax_ ,” Sam said slowly, “What, uh, what you need me to do, Red?”

 

Neurotoxin nearly danced in relief. Okay so maybe he did do a bit of pleased wiggling, but hey this was exciting!!!

 

“How fast can you get the bodies and the evidence here? Without anyone seeing you,” he added.

 

Sam felt himself relax as Neurotoxin took charge. **He’d** done this kind of thing before, and he **still** wasn’t caught. No one even had an inkling of what he looked like under the mask, either. His helmet checked his math and he nodded to himself.

 

“We’ll be stealthier together. I can fly us through the sewers to get to the sites, but, uh, humans start stinking pretty fast. Even in New York. Turns out crushing throats makes lots of blood, who knew,” Sam shrugged sheepishly,  “So maybe you should bring them down?”

 

“Good idea Spark Plug. You get us there, I'll get em out. Then we bring them back here and light this sucker up. Got some booby traps in here that'll go boom real nice too. The Avengers think I went on a weird psychotic rampage and you get off home free. Easy peasy,” Neurotoxin’s villainous little heart was full to bursting at having Sam work with him, at his easy acceptance of Neuro’s plan.

 

“Okay. Okay,” Sam turned his head, scanning the warehouse for an unregistered sewer access. He wasn’t disappointed. He darted over and lifted up the heavy cover easily, setting it to the side. He looked up at Neurotoxin, suddenly nervous. They were about to be very, very close.

 

“Man, I love piggy backs,” Neurotoxin said joyfully, swinging his way over and hopping onto Nova’s back. He wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, wishing he could kiss his head and reassure him that he had this covered, that everything **would** be okay. Instead he brought his knees up to bracket Nova’s hips, thinking it'd be more comfortable for the hero than if he wrapped his legs around him.

 

This close, Sam could smell the smoke still clinging to Neuro. With his helmet powered on he could only feel his pressure, not his heat. But he **had** noticed that he ran hotter than most humans, thanks to his HUD. Huh, did any other Avengers know that? He hadn’t thought to mention it to anyone, come to think of it. It **could** be useful in tracking down his secret ID.

 

Not that Sam was sure that was such a good idea right now. Something for later, maybe.

 

“You, uh, don’t get gee sick, do you?” Sam asked as they floated into the sewers proper.

 

“No idea!” Neuro said cheerfully.

 

“Ugh, great. Just try not to fall off and go splat,” Sam muttered. He pulled up the mapped route on his HUD and opened up. No need to worry about breaking windows down here. He took the corners fast, but he wasn’t really worried about Red falling off. Sticking to things did seem to be one of his super powers. The gee forces he was pulling, though, might give him some trouble. If he was affected by such things.

 

In no time at all they were there, the sewage kicking up a disgusting wake before them as Sam braked hard.

 

“Ngggh holy fucking shit, I was wondering where the brakes on this thing were,” Neuro said, shaken. He pulled his hood back up onto his head, taking a moment to deal with the queasy feeling in his stomach.  “A few times there I thought you were **trying** to knock me off.”

 

“Please, isn’t being super sticky one of your things?” Sam snarked at that.

 

“You make it sound gross,” Neurotoxin chuckled. “But yes that's why I'm still riding you, despite the full rodeo treatment. But anyways, down to business. C'mon Space Boy, we've got a lot of work to do."

 

Nova floated them up to the surface exit, not a manhole but a maintenance room access.

 

“Okay, I think this maintenance room has a window access, or maybe elevator shaft access. This waste of space was on the twelfth floor, uhhh, here I think…” Sam trailed off, thinking hard at his helmet. A three dimensional map of the apartment building popped up, along with a few possible routes Neuro could take to retrieve the corpse.

 

“There, I think that’ll help,” Sam said, glow perking up with his satisfaction.

 

Neuro whistled, impressed, “Nice job Sparky. I need you around more often!”

 

Neurotoxin eyed the map for no more than a second or two before crawling up towards the ventilation, “Be back in a sec with our disgusting cargo. Wish me luck!”

 

“Break a leg!” Sam said instead. Neuro’s praise felt strange. It was **good** feeling like he was being useful for a change, but the source of it was… He shouldn’t feel **proud** for helping a villain burn the corpses of the monsters he’d just killed, should he?

  
He’d rather everyone know that being a pedophile in New York meant a death sentence. Clean up this city then move on to the next had been his vague ‘plan’. Speaking of… Could he give the local lists to Neuro and start working his way outwards? Or maybe go start in on the West Coast? California seemed like it’d be a good spot. There were no active super hero teams out there. They all seemed to concentrate in New York, strangely enough.

 

Neurotoxin had been right about the stealth though. He needed to pick up some of his tricks. He could use his super strength without his glow activating, or well, his power stone would, but he didn’t have to pull the Nova Force around him for **that**. Could he emulate Neuro’s stickyness? It **was** a good way to leave no trace. He doubted it though. He’d probably have to... wait. Hmm, wasn’t his boots some kinda gravmetric thingummy for zero gee?

 

“Watch it!” Sam barked in surprise, barely catching the ruined body as it fell past him. Not that he cared that the remains were disrespected, they were honorless and nameless and deserved no burial.

 

“Whoopsie, sorry Sunshine,” Neurotoxin said, slinking his way down and not sounding sorry at all, “But we're in a hurry. Gotta go go go with that fantastic super speed you've got going on,” he added, climbing up onto Nova’s back like this was something they did on the daily.

 

“Whatever, hang on,” Nova said, holding onto the corpse by one foot and going from hover to rocket in point three seconds. On the third tight corner he felt his load get lighter, but Neuro was still clinging tightly to him.

 

“Nova! Fucking watch it! I didn't sign up to get torn in half like that fucker,” Neuro chided, gripping Sam's shoulders tight. He pressed himself close to Nova’s body, trying to keep himself safe. “Man the Lizard’s gonna eat good tonight. Aaaaand yup. I've officially grossed myself out. Ugh.”

 

Neurotoxin shivered, revolted.

 

“ _Schlag_ , sorry! I can go fast or I can not break the bodies! Which is it?”

 

“Fast fast, just watch the corners,” Neuro conceded.

 

“Okay, okay! I’m going as fast as I can without crashing!”

 

Finally, Sam slowed down, next destination reached.

 

“Seriously, Connors is still alive? I thought for sure he’d gotten killed with the rest of the Sinister Six,” Sam asked.

 

“Hmm? No, no I like Connors. It's not his fault, he's not really in control when he does the shit he does,” Neurotoxin replied distractedly as he jumped off of Nova’s back. 

 

Nova watched Neurotoxin climb up the wall absently. He **did** have a really amazing ass.

 

Peter had stopped texting him a while ago. Man, he hoped he was okay. He really **should** have waited, but _flark_ , what else was he supposed to do when Frigga ordered him to stop them from hurting again as soon as possible?

 

As Neuro looked back at him expectantly Sam belated realized he wanted another map. He focused his thoughts and pulled it up. Again, likely routes Neurotoxin could use highlighted on the projection.

 

“You're a star,” Neuro praised him as he set off. Sam groaned irritably behind him as Neurotoxin followed one of the helpfully outlined paths.

 

Getting the next victim was a little more tricky. Sam had really fucked him up good. Peter was proud.

 

Still, this kill was still well.. **dripping**. Eugh.

 

He webbed up the corpse to prevent more fluid leakage and headed back down, quick as he could. Man he wished he could work with Nova more often. This was almost nice. The weirdest fucking couples bonding ever, **yes**. But nice.

 

While Red was busy spidering about, Nova was contemplating Neuro’s earlier, seemingly weird statement about the Lizard. It didn’t line up with what he’d picked up from police reports and super chit chat. To hear it from the other supers the spider was a completely insane, untrustworthy monster.

 

That… hadn’t been Sam’s experience with him. He actually kept his word, for starters. There’d been no underhanded stinging or shenanigans when he’d held him up to disarm the trap. And, well, besides his arsonist tendencies, and, uh, technically murder, he wasn’t **that** bad.

 

“Okay, but like, it doesn’t really count,” Sam reasoned aloud. The rather disgusting, smashed corpse failed to comment. Which was good, Sam hated zombies and liches and vampires and, really the undead in general.

 

“What doesn’t really count my spacey friend?” Neuro asked, this time being a little more careful and actually carrying the corpse down. Since Nova hadn’t been pleased before. Not careful enough that he didn’t smash it’s head against the wall, but hey, no one was perfect.

 

“Oh! Uh… nothing?” Sam said, he really didn’t want to elaborate on how killing pedophiles wasn’t technically murder. Mostly because he thought he might get another ‘purification’ villain speech, which they really did not have time for. He had to get back to Peter. He was like, the **worst** boyfriend ever. Doming him without talking about it, running out on him when he was asleep. Ugh. He’d be lucky if Peter wanted to **see** him again after this. Much **less** keep dating.

 

Sam contemplated their gruesome cargo, trying to put it out of his mind.

 

“I’m gonna run outta hands right quick. Can you,” Sam thwipped at the two corpses, little sparks shooting harmlessly out of his wrist.

 

Neurotoxin tilted his head, giggling at Sam’s ‘thwipping’ before doing his own version and securing the bodies. Eugh, this was the worst. This was why he burned them in their houses. Ah well, at least he’d been able to destroy all of the other evidence on this little excursion.

 

“Sorry, ugh, this is so gross,” Neuro apologized, hopping back onto Nova’s back. “Okay mush mush!”

 

“Actually not the grossest thing I’ve had to haul,” Sam said before rocketing off again. He didn’t bother trying to talk over his wind wake. The microseconds ticking away on his HUD was nerve wracking. What **had** Peter done when he’d never gotten a text back? Was he with his friends, cursing his shitty boyfriend, getting drunk and possibly into trouble? Sam itched to check his messages, text him back. Let him know he’d do anything to make it up to him for being such an ass.

 

Peter was so kind and good. So gentle and tender and  **sweet**. So spooked by even playful spankings. How could he dom him and run out while he was sleeping? He was such a fucking coward. He'd be lucky if Peter returned his texts after this. So much for the first good Earth guy he'd found. Ugh.

 

Sam nearly blew past the next place. Gods, there were eight more to go after this! Well, nine more bodies but one had been a couple. He projected the map as before, this time remembering without being prompted.

 

“I kinda hope Connors does show up, or maybe some of his scaly friends, that’d go a _das’t_ sight faster,” Nova said. Itching to be done already.

 

“Mhmm,” Neuro agreed, heading up the wall, “You in a hurry Sparky?” He didn’t wait for the answer, moving fast to grab the next corpse. This was taking too long. If someone discovered the murders...

 

Dead piece of shit now secured, he headed back down.

 

“Worried about your hero pals?” Neurotoxin asked, as though he hadn’t just taken a conversational break to grab a dead body.

 

“Not about **them** , no. They won’t get called unless something goes boom. Serial murders are supposed to be local or maybe FBI, depending,” Sam said absently. As soon as he felt the sensation of Neurotoxin sticking to him with his powers he nodded and set off. Maybe the sudden start would throw him off topic.

 

Sam had never thought he’d be close enough to Neurotoxin to get to learn what his stickiness felt like when used on him. He guiltily thought of Peter, and how he’d called him a hero. Sam knew none of the Avengers were saints, but that was in their pasts. Mostly. Maybe? He wasn’t sure about Hawkeye and Widow, actually. Though Hulk had his fair share of ‘unavoidable casualties’, much to Banner’s distress. They didn’t actively hunt people down now. Probably.

 

And here they were. Again. Nova was practically dancing in place. Map up and ready before he’d fully slowed to a hover.

 

“Seriously it’s like you’ve got ants in your pants. Why are you freaking if you aren’t worried about heroic intervention?”

 

It was interesting to Neuro to know that the Avengers didn’t care much about serial murders without a superhuman element. The fuckers. People could be getting hurt and they were too high and mighty to help?

 

“I’m kinda a really shitty boyfriend and the longer this takes the shittier I am so can we please hurry it up, Red? Come on!” Nova gestured up, at the waiting maintenance door.

 

“No you aren't!” Neurotoxin blurted before he could stop himself, “I mean… Look at you Sparky! You're sweet and heroic and incredibly easy on the eyes,” he stuttered out, then turned quickly towards the maintenance door, “I bet he knows how lucky he is.”

 

Sam watched Neurotoxin head up, blinking in confusion. He looked back down at the mostly intact corpses below.

 

“Was that weird? That was kinda weird, right? Not just me?”

 

They again failed to respond.

 

“Well, I guess I’ve known Neuro has a weird crush on me for a while?” Sam pondered, drawing his legs up to ‘sit’ and rub at his chin thoughtfully, “I mean he could have ‘shnk’ed me the other night. And there was that weird love story quip. Though even before that he’d flirt during our fights.”

 

Sam thought some more. Then nodded.

 

“I **am** awesome! I bet Pete is fine, probably out working right now. Johnny’s probably acting the fool again. He was probably just telling me he had to go to work too.”

 

Somewhere, distantly, something splished.

 

“Telling me like, twenty times…” Sam muttered, staring down at the ground through his legs again.

 

“Augh! I. Am. The. Worst!” Nova bellowed.

 

“Ow! Inside voice! Jeeze Louise Sparky! I’m right here!” Neuro said, pretending to smack his head to get his hearing restarted. Sam blinked at him. When had he gotten back?

 

“Uh, oops?” Sam said, letting Neuro climb all over him as he situated the ‘cargo’. This time when he felt him stick, he said, “Hang tight.”

 

He shot off, moving fast, fast, fast through the twisting tunnels of New York’s sewers.

 

Neurotoxin was getting used to the intense ride. The wind and the pressure and the sudden sharp twists and turns. He'd learned to press himself close to Nova, like an extremely clingy hug.

 

Guiltily he thought back to standing with Sam in the kitchen, when he'd draped his arms around his neck and peppered him with kisses as he'd been trying to cook. Sam thought Peter was at home, worried and distressed. He thought he was dating someone who couldn't deal with him disappearing, who couldn't understand where he was or what he was doing. Sam thought he was a bad boyfriend. Because of **him**.

 

Nero frowned under his mask as they arrived at the next place. Nova's map was already up, bathing them in blue light. Even in the sewer with bodies webbed up under him Sam was beautiful.

"Hey Sparky... there's something I really need to tell you," he said, paused halfway up the sewer wall. "I uh... I need to, I mean, I want to um..."

 

“Well? Spit it out, Red! Time’s a wasting!” Sam huffed, making a ‘hurry up’ gesture and pointing at his wrist. Not a universal gesture, actually, but, well.

 

Neuro's frown deepened. “I- this isn't really something I can rush through Sunshine,” he said, voice small, “I… I'll tell you back at the warehouse. It's about me. About who… Never mind. Time's ticking. I'll bee are bee and we can chat about this later.”

 

Peter turned back around and continued his crawl, feeling more like a chicken than a spider.

 

That was weird. Again. Sam had never known Neurotoxin to be shy or hesitant about **anything**. He always leapt into things with spider bombs blazing and stingers and quips at the ready.

 

Something about **him**? What could **that** mean? Sam had already told him he was taken, and he had **seemed** to respect that. Surely it wasn’t to do with Peter? Sam worried at his lip.  Was he trying to tell him something **about** Peter? He **was** a supervillain, after all. Trying to make Sam doubt his boyfriend would only be par for the course. Though… Though he hadn’t told Neuro anything other than he was taken. Didn’t even specify the gender. Definitely hadn’t said a name!

 

_Is there anything suspicious about Peter?_ Sam thought. Well, his job **was** a bit shady, he supposed. Being paparazzi was not exactly the most prestigious or valued position on Earth. His HUD drew his attention to what his helmet thought was a relevant recording. Oh, he hadn't **meant** to ask his helmet that question. Huh.

 

“What’s this?” Sam asked, cocking his head like a curious puppy. His helmet took that as permission to play and a video from a few days ago started. In his apartment. It was IR since his helmet’s visual was only the inside of his bag. He stared, frozen. Brain unable to process the readings his helmet had recorded.

 

“N-no, it can’t be,” Sam said. His helmet helpfully estimated the likelihood of Peter being at least related to Neuro as eightysix percent. But of him being the villain…

 

Sam felt his fingers go numb, gruesome cargo landing with a vile splash below.

 

He’d known Sam was Nova **this entire time**?! Why hadn’t he killed him as soon as he’d realized it? Sam shivered, remembering his rough fingers tenderly caressing his scars. Scars that Neurotoxin, that **Peter** had given him. _No, no it isn’t for sure_ , Sam tried to reason.

 

“Ready for the next trip Sparkster?” Neuro said loudly, dropping the corpse. It fell past Nova, landing with a loud splash. Along with the others, he noticed.

 

“Uh… you dropped something. You okay?”

 

Sam stared at him, for a moment not seeing. Then he let out a shuddering sigh.

 

“Tell me. I suddenly have lots of time, Neurotoxin,” Sam said, voice soft and low.

 

Neuro stared, surprised. “You… I, uh…”

 

Years and years of being endlessly chatty and suddenly he couldn’t find the words.

 

“I’m- I just…This is kinda a sensitive topic Bucket Head. Maybe the sewer isn’t the place? And besides, I thought you had to go. What changed?”

 

Sam flexed his fingers glow sparking whitely.

 

“Somehow I think I really don’t need to. Now, tell me," Sam floated up, looking down at Neuro clinging to the wall. His emotions were a swirl of anger, fear, and confusingly enough **worry**. But not for him. He uneasily remembered how Peter hated anything even vaguely like being forced. How he'd flinched at first from playful slaps. What had **happened** to Peter to turn him into this? Or had it all been a lie? an act to get him to drop his guard and… and **not** kill him?

 

Peter’s entire inner monologue had narrowed down to one word.

 

**Fuck**.

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

He’d fucked up so badly and now…

 

“Sam-” he said, his voice cracking. “Sam I- fuck I wanted to tell you who I was. I **really** did, but you **hated** me! I had to- I couldn’t. Sam please,” Peter begged, not even sure what he was pleading for. He hadn’t even confessed, not really. But from the way Sam was acting, the things he was saying, he figured he didn’t have to. Somehow Sam **knew** _._

 

Sam floated down lower, closer. He had no idea what to say. He was so, so **angry** , so **hurt**. But he **couldn’t** hurt Peter. _Flark_ , he was begging him. And it **was** him, he wasn’t putting on his ‘villian’ voice now. It was obviously Peter. He was obviously scared. Scared. Of **him**.

 

Sam tilted his head, pressing his helmeted forehead to Peter’s. What the _flark_ was he supposed to **do**?

 

Peter flinched, only to find Sam’s forehead pressed against him. He leaned into him, hoping his touches would remain gentle like this.

 

It wasn’t until he made a choked noise that Peter realized his mask was wet. Huh. He hadn’t even realized he was crying, “I’m so sorry Sam. I fucked up. I just wanted you to **understand**. I needed you to see why I do what I do before… I didn’t want you to hate me. I’m so- fuck **fuck** I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

“I’m really, really pissed.” Sam said, working on keeping his breathing even, “Like so pissed right now. But,” he sighed, slumping into Peter, wrapping his legs around his and sitting in his lap, “I **don’t** hate you.”

 

And wasn’t that a kick in the pants? He really **didn’t** hate Neurotoxin, Peter, whatever he wanted to be called. He couldn’t have been faking with the kids. Even if he was faking with **him**. Those kids adored him, and he knew that wasn’t something kids faked. Not that many. Not like that.

 

Peter snorted wetly.

 

“I’d be shocked if you weren’t pissed. I’m… I’m so- I’m not what you thought. If you want to run I understand. You’re more than I deserve,” Peter said, pulling off his mask. He couldn’t look at him, staring instead at the triple star emblem on his chest. A symbol of how much **better** than him Sam was. How much more **noble** and **heroic**. He was a hero and Peter was… was someone who lied to save his own ass and hurt Sam in the process. Sam was one of the only people in the world he **didn’t** want to hurt.

 

Sam stared at Peter’s face. Puffy and red from crying. Wet with tears and snot. His hair was a wreck from his mask. Sam ran his hand through it, petting him. He still wanted to punch him, get into a real fight like they used to. But he knew Peter wouldn’t, he hadn’t fought him since they started… whatever they were.

 

“I really couldn’t say about that. I mean, I’ve killed billions of people out there. Yeah, to save trillions more, but... Killing is killing,” Sam said. He wiped at Peter’s cheeks, glow drying him.

 

“And I really, royally fucked up, like, all the time when I first got this helmet,” Sam laughed, the sound echoing harshly in the tunnels of the sewers, “I accidentally helped slavers sell their cargo. I was so _flark’ng_ stupid.”

 

Sam sighed lifting his head and looking away, “I’d already killed millions before I was even sixteen. I’m no hero, just an idiot cop.”

 

A shaky inhale was all Peter could manage for a second. He was so scared. Too scared to wrap his arms around Sam like he wanted to. Too scared to press a kiss to his lips or his face or anywhere he could reach.

 

“You’re a hero Sam. I never lied to you about that. About how good and wonderful you are and how hard you try. You do what needs to be done, and you do it from the best place. You’re intentions are so fucking selfless Sam. Not like… fuck,” he was sobbing now, his shoulders shaking. This wasn’t how things were **supposed** to go. This wasn’t his plan **at all**.

 

Sam wrapped his arms around Peter, pulling him in close.

 

“Hey, hey, you aren’t like, a hundred percent a dick. Those kids love you! And you… Oh my Thor, you fucking nerd. You rob from the banks, flip it, and give it to an **orphanage**. Are you _flark’ng_ serious?” Sam felt himself shaking, crying, laughing. The tension leaving him with it as he held onto Peter’s shaking form.

 

Peter sobbed out a laugh at that, “Y-you figured that out huh?”

 

Peter's voice was strangled and he felt ridiculous crying here in the sewer, dead bodies below and Sam on his lap. He found the courage to wrap his arms around Sam, leaning his head against him. Sam laughed hysterically, clinging tightly to Peter. His strong arms wrapped around him felt so right. His helmet’s mission timer reminded him that they needed to leave now, for the next site. Sam hiccuped as he tried to regain control.

 

“We, we need to keep moving,” Sam managed to get out.

 

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “Yeah, but, just… I know I fucked up and I know you're probably half considering breaking out the Raid right now but… Can I kiss you? Because I really, really want to kiss you.”

 

The atmosphere wasn't quite right what with the stench and the corpses and the sewage, but at that moment all Peter could see was Sam. Holding him close and not running. At least not yet. And if this was going to be the last chance for a kiss he was damn well going to take it.

 

Sam didn't bother to respond with words. He pressed a fierce kiss to Peter’s lips, bruising, claiming. He had **no idea** what he was going to do, but for **now** at least Peter, Neurotoxin, was his.

 

Peter melted into the kiss as he poured everything he had into kissing back. All of his relief, all of his fear and desire and love for Sam went into kissing the ever living fuck out of him. He kissed him like he never wanted it to end. But end it did. He was shaking less now, but he could still barely catch his breath.

 

“Okay,” Peter said, squeezing Sam again, “Okay, we should go.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Sam agreed, a bit breathless. He pushed away and wiped at his eyes.

 

It was officially official. Peter, Neurotoxin, was the scum of the earth.

 

He wanted to hold Sam for hours, keep him in his arms and dry his tears. But there wasn't **time**.

 

He thwipped the bodies up out of the sewer water and quickly rigged up a sort of sling so that they could carry them without actually touching them. Nova floated away from him, leaving a huge hole where his body should be in Peter's arms.

 

He took a shuddering breath as he tried to collect himself, wiping his own eyes before tugging his damp mask back on.

 

“Hi,” he whispered as he climbed onto Sam's back. “My names Peter. I kill bad people. Wanna help me dispose of bodies and then maybe go back to my place to talk things out? Cuz I really like you, and I'm really sorry, and I promise that there **won't** be any secrets between us **ever** again.”

 

Sam laughed wetly at that. He shifted his grip on their gruesome cargo and reached up to give Peter’s hand a squeeze.

 

“Hey Peter, the name ‘s Sam. Funny story, I kinda kill bad people too,” Sam said back. He shifted his grip again, hanging onto the webline. Sam turned towards the next target. Then whispered, “I think I really like you, too.”

 

He was trying to think up something better to say than that, when his HUD flashed the time again. Sam sighed. Peter was sticking to him. Peter! Peter and **not** Neurotoxin, but **yes also** Neurotoxin.

 

It was so, **so** strange.

 

“Hang on, Big Shot!”

 

Peter's heart jumped at Sam's words, beating fast as they rocketed to the next location. Hope was never something Peter had bothered having since his aunt and uncle died, but he felt it now. In New York's stinking sewers, clinging tightly to Sam.

 

The map was up just as fast as before, but Peter took a moment to nuzzle against Sam's neck before he hopped off and went on his way. Stupid mask made kissing difficult.

 

“Back in a flash Sunshine,” he said, finally able to let the affection show in his tone at the pet name.

 

“Stay outta trouble,” Sam grunted, flustered at the affection.

 

“I never do,” Pete called back. “Where's the fun in that?”


	14. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Love is a flame_   
>  _A devil's thing_   
>  _A violent storm_   
>  _About to be born_   
>  _Just look in these eyes_   
>  _See all the lies_   
>  _All the things you see_   
>  _You cannot deny_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _And this flame_  
>  _That burns inside_  
>  _If you get too close_  
>  _Burn you alive_  
>  _Just look in these eyes_  
>  _And see if they lie_  
>  _All these words I speak_  
>  _You cannot deny_
> 
>  
> 
> _[...]_  
>  _If you wanna touch flames_  
>  _Come unto me_
> 
>  
> 
> _Got a flame_  
>  _Burns inside_  
>  _If you don't wanna burn_  
>  _Just walk on by_  
>  _And the pain_  
>  _You're feeling now_  
>  _Is nothing compared_  
>  _To the pleasures I hide_
> 
>  
> 
>  _Got a flame_  
>  _In my hand_  
>  _If you don't want a fire_  
>  _Step out of my light_  
>  _Walk on by_  
>  _Just look away_  
>  _'Cause if you're on my path_  
>  _You're better off dead_  
>  -Devil's Plaything, Danzig

“I dunno why we couldn’t have fed them to the Lizard,” Nova grumbled as he hovered in place.

 

“Sa-Nova,” Neurotoxin said, unsure what to call him. The look he shot Sam's way was decidedly unimpressed, “There are so many holes in that plan we might as well call it Swiss cheese.”

 

Peter shook his head and set about prepping the warehouse and its gruesome contents to burn.

 

“Hmph, whatever,” Sam huffed, glaring at the pile of corpses as Neuro poured accelerant on them. His plan hadn’t been completely terrible! But, well, maybe he hadn’t thought about how his teammates would actually react. He’d only thought about how they **should**  react.

 

“You wanna do the honors? You're the champion, they **were** your kills,” Peter said, somewhere between annoyed that Sam had tried to wipe them out on his own and sheepish. It was weird, knowing Sam **knew**.

 

Sam floated over to Peter slowly. He’d never, **purposefully** started a fire before. Okay, well, actually Master Rocket had needed a distraction on Vegas VI, and Vegas V, and Pergnoct VII, and then Quill had needed some bonfires for impressing the rural natives of Sergeci XI…

 

Sam shrugged.

 

“Whatever makes you happy, Big Shot. The law ‘s been done, the kids are safe, from **these** beasts at least. So it doesn’t really matter to me,” Sam said. Everything stunk of sharp, acrid accelerants. The sooner this was over with, the better.

 

“Light 'er up then Sparky. Just uh… be ready to zoom us outta here okay? Or you know, yourself out if…” He trailed off, looking away. Sam seemed to be willing to give him a shot, but he **was** mad after all. Nothing **good** ever came of people being mad at him. Peter forced himself to finish speaking, faking bright happiness, “Anyways I used the good stuff so it's gonna go up fast and big.”

 

Sam frowned at him, cocking his head as he pondered.

 

“You don’t… **actually** think I’m gonna **kill** you, right?” Sam asked. That hadn’t been the first time tonight Peter had said something like this. It made Sam uneasy. They were… complicated, but the thought of killing Peter made Sam feel sick.

 

“I won’t,” Sam said, not letting Peter respond. “I dunno **what** we are, but even if we **aren’t** , I’m **not** gonna **kill** you, Pete.”

 

Sam floated next to him, wrapping his arms around him and looking over his shoulder. He pushed his glow out, surrounding him with it’s tingling safety. Peter buried his masked face against Sam's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

 

“Okay,” Peter said, his voice muffled.

 

The weird Nova glow felt good. Safe. But not as safe as being in Sam's arms. He didn't think anything would **ever** feel as safe as **that**.

 

“I wanna be,” Peter added, still tucked up against Sam's neck. “You know, be **us**. I know you might not anymore and I understand but… I think you should know I want to be.”

 

Sam had no idea what to say to that. Did he still want to be Peter’s boyfriend? Knowing he wasn’t, really, as innocent as he’d seemed. Knowing he was really a thieving arsonist, **and** notorious supervillain. Could they even make that **work**? He knew Peter wasn’t going to stop. Not even for him. He held him in silence, thinking. Then his helmet reminded him the sun was rising literally right now. He bit back a growl at the interruption, then gave Peter a tender squeeze.

 

“Okay,” Sam said, voice rough. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And immediately regretted it, the stench of accelerant and freshly dead bodies, and the still clinging reek of the sewers was overpowering Peter’s comforting scent.

 

“Okay! You ever watched a fire from the inside? It’s kinda weird,” Sam said instead. He moved them over to the trap door leading back down to the sewers.  **That** coaxed Neuro to raise his head.

 

“You can do that?” Peter asked, awed. He wasn't sure what Sam's okay meant, but it wasn't an outright 'no'. And okay… he'd have been lying if he said that the thought of seeing fire from the inside didn't give him the weirdest boner, even despite the strained circumstances, “You really **are** amazing you know.”

 

“Yeah, I **am** awesome,” Sam said, basking in Peter’s praise despite the strangeness of the situation, “And yeah, I can! Just **don’t** distract me, that’ll be bad times for **both** of us. As long as I got you in my Nova Force you’ll be safe.”

 

“Gotcha. Just one quick thing then before we start then.” Peter peeled the bottom of his mask up, then grabbed Sam's face, not even minding when the crest of his helmet smacked against his forehead as he pulled him into a searing kiss.

 

Sam kissed him back, confused. Confused and worried. This felt so **right**. So **good**. Even knowing Peter was a villain, it didn’t change that feeling of wholeness when they kissed. Reluctantly Sam broke the kiss. They had to do this **now** and get out of here. The district was already busier than it had been when Peter had started prepping it to burn.

 

Sam held his glow around Peter, keeping him safe from the heat. He pointed at the nearest, wet, shine of accelerant and focused on **hot**. Not hot-light like an energy blast, or cold light like he sometimes needed. Finally, the heat grew hot enough to start the accelerant blazing out from where he was pointing. He wrapped his arm back around Peter and half closed his eyes, focusing on keeping him safe in his glow.

 

Peter's eyes widened in wonder as the fire sparked to life. The flames consumed the bodies quickly, sparking and popping as they licked up around Sam and Peter, testing the edges of Sam's glow.

 

Peter heard his breath catch as the fire washed through the warehouse, burning everything in its path to the ground. It was almost a religious experience. The calm that settled over him. The cool touch of Sam's arms enveloping him. The glow, both from Sam and the fire bathing them in light.

 

“Okay, Big Shot. We better skeedaddle. Is your place closer to here, or mine?” Sam said, as the fire started reaching higher, up towards the still set and armed boobie traps. The light of the fire reflects weirdly off of Peter’s mask. Sam almost wishes he could see his face. He hasn’t ever been **this** quiet for **this** long before. Even when he’s asleep he makes soft little snores and mumbles.

 

“Why **Nova** , are you propositioning me?” Peter faux gasped. He still couldn't tear his eyes away from the flames engulfing them, “Mine. You'd better get us out of here before the booms.”

 

Sam snorted at Peter’s joke, then held tight to him as he kicked down through the trap door and flew further from the former warehouse.

 

“Okay, which way?” he asked, trying to figure out if he’d always liked Neuro’s sense of humor or not. Because right now he kinda did.

 

“You know how to get to Forest Hills yeah?” Peter wished they could have stayed by the fire. God that had been an experience he’d never forget. And now in Sam’s arms, going home with him, pressed tight against him… well that metaphorical boner of early was starting to manifest in a very non metaphorical way. Heh. How embarrassing.  

 

“Yeah, I can get us there. This a safe house or we need to…” Sam trailed off, finally noticing Peter’s hard cock. He licked his lips, then frowned. Now really **wasn’t** the time. He needed to figure out what Peter even was to him.

 

“I should bring you to a safehouse but… you kinda deserve to come to my actual place. Least I can do after all the shit I’ve put you through,” Pete said, resolutely ignoring the feeling of his erection pressed against Sam’s side. And ignoring the fact that Sam clearly noticed even harder, “I, uh… it’s nothing fancy but…”

 

Peter  **really** wished he’d pulled his mask back down. His cheeks were redder than his costume, he could feel it.  

 

“Like my place is swag. I think there’s a sewer access at Willow Lake, you, uh. I should probably drop you off closer to your place though. We should meet up at the park then head out. Unless you have a stash of street clothes in those pouches?”

 

Sam’s hand wandered a bit closer to Peter’s belt, but he hesitated. He **did** keep rather pointy and boomy surprises in those pouches.

 

Peter grinned, sheepish, “I have some in my pouches actually,” he bit his lip. “I uh… I won't go into all the boring details but I was telling the truth when I told you I’m a science nerd. I kinda make all my tech, and one of the things I made is a clothes sphere. And let me tell you it is **so** awkward when I throw it instead of a spider bomb by accident.”

 

He tried to will his stupid boner away, but just being near Sam was making that… Hard. Heh.

 

Sam laughed at that, then cut himself off. He shouldn’t be finding Neurotoxin so, so _das’t_ cute. He should… he didn’t know. Taking advantage of him with his guard down like this felt so wrong. But fighting him the next time he ran across him on a patrol was going to be so, **so** hard.

 

“Yeah,” Sam said, “Yeah, I bet that’s pretty hilarious. Okay, we’ll change in the access then.”

 

He held him close, closer than really necessary, as he flew them there. Nowhere near as fast as earlier. There was no rush now.

 

Peter still wanted him, and Sam had no idea what to **do** about it. He **wanted** Peter, he thought, but did he really? Was the Peter he’d gotten to know actually him? Would… would Peter be willing to stop the grand theft? He could overlook the, ah, ‘justice’ he dealt. It wasn’t any worse than what Sam had done tonight, really. The burning entire buildings down was a big problem. But he clearly wasn’t going to stop with the fires. Not now, maybe never.

 

Peter was exhausted. After everything that had happened tonight he felt like he could sleep for a thousand years.

 

“There’s this sushi place that’s fantastic. I really want to take you maybe? I mean if you ever want to. One dollar sushi and it’s actually good!” he said, keeping up with his occasional commentary. He didn’t need Sam to answer really. He just couldn’t keep quiet, not with his thoughts racing so tumultuously through his head.

 

“Ah, really? Dollar sushi that I won’t need my helmet for?” Sam said, grinning. Then he sighed. That sounded great. Really! But… he worried at his lip.

 

Sam seemed to want him. But he was also holding back more now. He was angry, and Peter didn’t blame him. No matter what happened Sam was going to be angry for a while. But… but how long he’d stick around was the question. Would he turn him in? Would he try to make him stop? Would they fight the next time they saw each other in costume, and would Peter let him beat him down if he was in front of his hero friends? Could Sam ever **really** trust him? He wanted to bash his head against the disgusting sewer wall just to silence his thoughts.

 

“Okay, we’re here,” Sam said, floating them up the access and into a maintenance shed.

 

Peter frowned when Sam let him go, but he guessed it had to happen sometime.

 

“Nice. You’re way faster than a New York cab,” he said, his heart not really in it. He reached into a pouch, pulling out a ball and grinning as he tossed it at the wall. His clothes popped out with a hiss and a little puff of smoke. It was a ridiculous release method, but he loved it anyways.

 

He glanced over at Sam as he pulled off his mask, biting his lip. He wondered how weird it was for him to see Peter in Neuro’s costume. Well it wouldn’t be on for long. With steady hands he unzipped himself, starting to peel the tight spandex off.

 

“You look too _das’t_ innocent,” Sam said, before touching down next to him and pulling off his helmet. As his suit dematerialized he muttered, “I thought you were just putting on a show for me.”

 

“No!” Peter said quickly, distressed. “No, Sam I **wasn’t** … I mean when I **first** saw you on the bench I **was** , but once I got to know you, and then after I figured out who you were… I didn’t lie about **anything** except **Neurotoxin**.”

 

He frowned deeper, wanting to go to Sam. Who… was very naked now. Okay. He hadn’t been expecting that. It definitely didn’t help his… situation. Especially not the sight of the bruises Peter had made on him the night before. He was pretty sure that Sam’s space helmet **healed** him which meant he **must** have kept them on purpose. The thought made him feel hot, smug, possessive. Fuck he wanted to go over there, drop to his knees and mouth at those bruises. Make them darker. Get Sam hard for him.

 

But **now** wasn’t the time, even if they **were** both naked now.

 

“Fuck! I know you probably don’t believe that, and I don’t blame you, but for whatever it’s worth the Peter you know **is** who I really am. No one else could be this stupid and nerdy and lame, believe me.”

 

“I want to believe you, Peter,” Sam said. Looking away he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He hadn’t even stopped to gel it earlier, and it was a sweaty mess now. Sam looked back to him, Peter’s hair was just as bad. But his body was so perfect. Naked now, half hard. Sam wanted to throw him against the wall and kiss him senseless. Drop to his knees and suck him off. Instead he slung his go bag off his shoulder and pulled out his clothes.

 

Peter's blue eyes were so wide and earnest. Sam didn’t **think** he was still lying. But he **knew** he was a hopeful idiot. Still... as Neuro he had kept his word to him. Had it all been part of some long con? He was part spider, he probably had the patience for it. But they’d met on the bench from sheer dumb luck. There was no way he could have planned **that**. Sam stepped into his boxers.

 

Peter ducked his head, pulling on his pants, “Yeah, I know.”

 

Peter tugged on his shirt in silence, trying to keep his eyes off of Sam, even though he was the only thing he wanted to be looking at. But if he looked at him right now, half dressed, he’d be tempted to kiss him, and he couldn’t keep relying on kisses to get them past this.

 

“Whenever you’re ready we can go to my place. I can order in food if you’re hungry and we can just… talk?” He looked up finally. Surprised as always how easily just the sight of Sam took his breath away, even just doing something as mundane as putting on his shoes. 

 

Finally dressed, Sam slung his bag back over his shoulder. His helmet a heavy weight against his side. He looked back at Peter. With his uniform out of sight, dressed in street clothes, it seemed impossible that he was really the notorious supervillain Neurotoxin. Tentatively, Sam reached out for his hand.

 

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s wash off the sewers and smoke, and go from there?”

 

“Mhm. Wasn’t gonna say anything but you kinda stink,” Peter laced his fingers with Sam’s, his heart jumping in his chest. That had to be a **good** sign right?

 

“ **I** stink?!” Sam said, huffing in outrage as he opened the access to the park, “At least **my**  suit isn’t in my pockets!”

 

Sam pretended to gag as he let Peter lead the way.

 

“I don’t think… I’m gonna make it…” he groaned, staggering against Peter, “Stench… too… strong…”

 

Peter gave Sam his most hurt look, “I invite you to my house, I offer you my shower, and **this** is how you repay me?”

 

Peter tried to suppress his smile with some difficulty, “I oughta leave you here on the streets!”

 

This felt so **right**. So **good**. Sam just  **had** to feel it, too.

 

“Bleh, gurgle, dead,” Sam moaned dramatically, flopping against Peter and letting him drag him for a bit.

 

“Ugh, seriously though,” Sam muttered, still holding his hand tight, but putting more distance between them. “You should make some kinda de-sewer-ifier, it’d make life so much easier.”

 

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking about that. I’m pretty sure I’ve come up with a great idea actually. I’m gonna call it a **shower** _,_ ” Peter laughed, squeezing Sam’s hand.

 

“Har dee har har,” Sam said, unamused. “No seriously though. You know how hard it is to sneak around when you smell like, uuughhh.”

 

Sam made an exaggerated ‘ew yuck’ face for emphasis.

 

“Ugh yes. It’s the worst. I swear the looks I’ve gotten in civvies when I’ve had to quick change,” Peter shook his head mournfully, “Anyways, this is the place.”

 

“Could be worse. Though really, I am kinda surprised. I mean, with your night job…” Sam tilted his head but trailed off. Surely such a villain as Neurotoxin didn’t really give **all**  of his money to orphans. That was ridiculous. Peter led Sam up to the door, feeling suddenly shy. He had never had anyone over to his apartment before. Not even Flash. It felt **weird**. He wondered idly if he’d cleaned earlier, if there was anything embarrassing laying around.

 

“Ah, yeah. I, um… I have a really nice TV?” The TV was pretty nice, but definitely nothing amazing. His money mostly went to the orphanage and to various outreach programs and charities. His biggest indulgence was eating at fancy restaurants, and that was mostly because he couldn’t cook worth shit. Oh and sciencey shit. He loved him some sciency shit. 

 

Sam laughed softly at his answer, “You’re something else, Pete.”

 

Peter led Sam to the **working** elevator, and pressed the button for the 6th floor.

 

“You can press **all** the buttons in this one just so you know,” Peter said slyly, trying to cover his nerves. He couldn’t quite stop himself from fiddling with the hem of his shirt though. “But maybe don’t press them **all** right now. We wanna get there sometime today.”

 

“Come on, **rude**. I’m not A-bomb over here. I actually can **not** push buttons you know,” Sam rolled his eyes.

 

“Mmm well you’ve always been good at pushing mine. In more ways than one,” Peter said, nervous. Bringing up their past was… a lot scarier than bringing up the sexual tension, that was for sure.

 

“I **am** good at not shutting up,” Sam agreed, and not to be outdone added, “You always know how to flip my switch.”

 

The elevator chimed and the doors open. Both sets together, like they were supposed to. Sam sighed.

 

“Okay, I’m a little bit jealous of your building’s maintenance. Just a bit,” Sam pouted as they walked out.

 

“I know, I truly live in the lap of luxury,” Peter hummed in agreement, leading Sam to his door. “See how high security this place is?” he added as he wiggled the key in the lock, trying to position it just right to- “Ah ha! We’re in! Welcome to my humble abode.”

 

Peter held the door open for Sam, only just now realizing that the periodic table of elements shower curtain was probably going to be embarrassing. And that picture of Einstein in the living room? Definitely embarrassing.

 

Sam stepped in, not quite sure what he was expecting. Peter’s apartment was smaller than his, for a start. His TV **was** nice, but it hadn’t been the nicest model when it was new. He had super nerdy posters all over his walls, and sciency looking things stored on his bookshelves. And books. So **many** books.

 

“Man, I hate to break it to you, Pete, but I think the guy that lives here is a total nerd,” Sam said. He dropped his bag onto the only empty chair at the table slash desk slash miscellaneous junk holder upper.

 

“Total nerd. I mean look at those glasses. Definitely a poindexter,” Peter laughed, hoping Sam was charmed by the nerdyness, not put off. Sam smiled at that.

 

“Mmm, kinda have a thing for nerds. Dunno if you noticed,” Sam teased. Gods, it was so easy to relax with Peter. So **nice** being with someone that could sass as much as him and not get mad at it.

 

Sam glanced over at the kitchen. There was no bar separating the living slash dining room and kitchen in Peter’s apartment. His stove looked too clean, like unused clean. His microwave had a rather alarming, nonstandard look to it.

 

“You cook food in that?” Sam asked, appalled.

 

“Well I cook **something** in it, but it's definitely not food,” Peter said, blushing. “I uh… I eat out a lot? Not everyone can make delicious blow job worthy food like you y’know.”

 

“I’m actually, incredibly relieved you don’t put food in that,” Sam said, shaking his head. He frowned, then looked back at Peter, “You know, I’m not that worried that **you**  are gonna accidentally blow this place up with your kitchen chemistry, either.”

 

Peter grinned widely, “Aww you have so much faith in me,” then more seriously, “I'm very careful. All the dangerous stuff happens at a safehouse. The stuff I do here is like school project volcano level science. Well, at least to me it is.”

 

He glanced nervously at the bathroom. “So, uh, do you want to shower first? Or did you wanna um… Save water? I mean I could go first too if you want! I just uh… Whatever you want is-”

 

“Pete, this isn’t gonna be about only me,” Sam said, reaching up to press his hand to his face. “ **Whatever** this is gonna be, it’s gonna be both of us.”

 

Peter swallowed and looked away.

 

“Okay. Would you like to shower with me? Because I'd really like the company,” Peter said quietly. He leaned into the touch of Sam's hand, even if he couldn't quite bring himself to look him in the eye.

 

Sam thought on it, moving his hand to rest on Peter’s shoulder. On the one hand, them showering together would probably lead to **something**  not quite so clean as soap and water. But… but this could be his last time with Peter. If they couldn’t figure out this Hero and Villain thing…

 

“Yeah,” Sam said, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 

Taking Sam's hand, Peter led him into the bathroom.

 

“Don't say a word,” he warned, grinning as Sam took in the sight of his shower curtain. Sam snickered at the sight of the Periodic Table of Elements shower curtain. He undid his pants and Peter stepped forward to place his hands over Sam's.

 

“Can I?” He asked, looking into Sam's gorgeous green eyes.

 

Sam stared up at him, thinking. Peter had honestly seemed to enjoy striping him the other night, or was it only last night?

 

“Yeah, I mean, if you want?” Sam dropped his hands away, letting Peter grab onto his pants. Peter pulled Sam's pants down, then knelt to help him get them off. Next he hooked his fingers into Sam's boxers, pulling them off along with his pants.

 

He pressed a kiss to Sam's thigh before standing to run his hands up under his shirt, indulging in the feeling of his warm skin before stripping the shirt off of him too.

 

Sam shivered as Peter’s warm hands caressed his skin before pulling off his shirt. Peter looked so… Sam squelched the emotions churning inside him. It didn’t matter. He was a cop, he couldn’t knowingly date a criminal. Peter wasn’t going to stop the arson. He’d made that clear earlier.

 

Still… Sam reached out to Peter, hesitantly sliding his hands under his shirt.

 

“My turn?” he asked softly.

 

Peter nodded and closed his eyes. If this could be the last chance he ever got to feel Sam's hands on him he was committed to taking in every moment of it.

 

Sam pulled off Peter’s shirt, then slid his hands back down his sides to his pants. His body was so achingly perfect. He wondered with a pang how many of these scars were from him. Could he **ever** fight him all out again? Knowing how he was under the mask?

 

He undid his belt and toyed with the button of his pants. He was tempted, sorely tempted, to show off a bit and unbutton him with his mouth. But that was definitely **not** okay right now. He’d already hurt Peter enough. He pushed down his pants and boxers in one go. Kneeling with his motion to push off Peter’s socks.

 

Sam rested his head on Peter’s thighs, he was so _**das’t**_ strong. He had to focus, ignore the half chub he was getting from the sight of Peter’s nakedness. From the knowledge that he was **his** , at least for now. He stood up.

 

“Okay, time to get clean!” Sam said, stepping back a bit so that Peter was nearest the shower.

 

“Yes. Showering. Getting clean. Now is the time,” Peter managed, unable to hide how affected he was by the feel of Sam's gentle touches, the sight of him naked on his knees. He turned around and opened the curtain, working the shower controls until the water was nice and hot. Then he turned back to Sam and reached out his hand.

 

Sam took his hand and stepped in. He groaned at the feel of hot water on his back, and Peter’s hot, wet chest in front of him. This might have been, just possibly, maybe, something of a bad idea. He closed his eyes and stepped back into the stream, not having to duck to get his hair wet.

 

Peter was mesmerized by the sight of Sam naked with streams of warm water cascading down the lean lines of his body. He was more beautiful than any fire Peter had ever seen. More beautiful than anything. He swallowed and reached for the shampoo, waiting until Sam was out from under the spray to ask, “Can I wash your hair for you?”

 

Sam blinked open his eyes and looked up at Peter. He shouldn’t, he really, **really** shouldn’t. But his mouth went on without his consent, “Yeah, sure.”

 

Sam stepped closer to Peter, sighing softly as his long fingers massaged his scalp while he worked the shampoo into his hair. He resolutely kept his eyes closed. Doing his best to think of anything other that Peter’s leanly muscled, wet, and hard body so close.

 

Peter continued massaging Sam's head long past how long he technically needed to. Sam looked so peaceful, so pleased as he lost himself in the sensation. Peter had to use more willpower than he thought he possessed to keep himself from kissing him.

 

He was fully hard now, just from looking at Sam and being so close to him. It would be so easy to step forward and- **no**. Sam was **angry** and **upset**. Peter wasn't sure his advances would be appreciated right now. Not even as his eyes traced down Sam's body to take in his slowly hardening cock.

 

“Rinse,” Peter managed, his voice hoarse.

 

Sam shook his head, trying to clear it. He’d nearly been dozing from the gentle attention. He stepped back into the water and ran his hands through his hair, getting the soap out. He reached out for Peter, steadying himself against him as he stepped forward. He shook his head and blinked the water out of his eyes again.

 

Peter was looking at him with lust and adoration. That look he seemed to save just for him. Or maybe he **didn’t** , he tried to remind himself. It **could** all be a lie. He was a villain, an arsonist, a thief. Sam had never really seen him around anyone else, maybe he looked at everyone like that. Sam couldn't bring himself to believe it though. Peter's adoring gaze made him feel so good. It probably… Probably shouldn’t get him so _das’t_ hard.

 

Sam swallowed and reached for the shampoo.

 

“Your turn,” Sam got out, voice a bit gruff as he tried to strangle his affection.

 

Peter ducked his head slightly so that Sam could bury his fingers in his hair. With his eyes closed Peter couldn't help the soft pleased sounds that tumbled from his lips as Sam's hands seemed to massage away every care, if only for the moment. His fingers were sending shivers down his spine despite the heat of the shower.

 

“Mmm, Sam. That's nice,” he rumbled, lips parted even with the danger of a mouthful of shampoo lingering above his head.

 

“MmHmm, I know,” Sam said, going for his usual smugness. Even though he was feeling anything but. He hadn’t felt this unsure since he first realized how badly he’d fucked everything up on his first attempts at saving people.

 

He let his hands rub down Peter’s neck, then rested them on his shoulders.

 

“Time to rinse,” he said, voice just a bit softer than he’d intended. He moved to slide past Peter, then froze as their erections brushed together. He gave Peter’s shoulders a squeeze and continued switching spots.

 

Peter tried not to make a sound at the feeling of Sam's cock as it brushed hard and hot against his own, he really did. What resulted was more of a whine than the moan that had struggled to escape.

 

He obediently stepped under the spray, tilting his head back and cursing the tension between them. If things were better he'd be on Sam right now, their wet bodies working against each other. Fuck he wanted it so badly.

 

Stepping out he managed a weak grin. “So uh… should we address the elephant in the room? Or are we going full public locker room on this situation?”

 

Sam groaned, of course Peter wouldn’t leave it. As Peter he might have been less bold, but as Neurotoxin? Yeah. Great.

 

“Pete, you’re really _flark’ng_ hot. Okay? I just,” Sam looked away, then looked back, “I don’t know if this is going to **work**. I can’t just fuck you and, and,” Sam felt himself choking up, das’t. Why was he so terrible at this crap?

 

“Sam,” Peter strode forward, slipping his hand into Sam's. “I know. I know, I'm sorry. I was just trying to break the tension we don't have to do anything right now. I just… I **want** this to work. I **want** to be with you more than I've wanted **anything** in a long time.”

 

“Yeah?” Sam asked, leaning against Peter’s chest, letting his arms wrap around him. He felt so safe like this. So cared for, “I want you, want us.”

 

Sam hadn’t been sure. Thought he hadn't been sure, but he was so **completely** sure. He'd tried reminding himself how awful a person Peter really was. But... but he wanted him anyways. He wanted them to work so desperately. Was there even a chance?

 

“But is there even a chance? I mean, my job is enforcing the law and you, uh, you kinda make your money by breaking it. And… And it isn’t just that!”

 

Sam clung to Peter, shaking. Not from the chill of wet skin, either.

 

“I mean, I gotta beat the shit outta you next time you get The Avengers on your ass! It’ll look **kinda** weird when we are suddenly **not** archnemesis! And you’re gonna probably have to sting me again, at some point. Can you even **do** that now? We haven’t fought since we started dating!”

 

“ **No**!” Peter said, the mere thought of hurting Sam making bile rise in his throat. “No Sam I won't hurt you! I **can't**. I'd never… But… But we can fake it can't we? Pull our punches, or you can attack and I can dodge or…”

 

Sam took a few shaky breaths.

 

“Come on, let’s soap up, rinse off, and talk about this without wasting hot water,” Sam finally said. Peter nodded. His heart felt heavy and his mind was spinning at a thousand miles per hour. He pressed a regretful kiss to Sam's clean wet hair and stepped back to soap himself up before passing it to Sam.

 

Sam scrubbed himself down and stepped into spray. He set the soap back with a sigh.  Watching the suds rinse away.

 

Peter stepped out and toweled off quickly, handing Sam the spare towel off the rack.

 

Sam turned off the water. And reached for the offered towel. It was extremely soft and fluffy.

 

“Our street clothes are kinda disgusting now,” Peter said wrinkling his nose. “Come to my room and I'll grab you something to wear. The beds more comfortable than the couch anyways.”

 

“Yeah, but, uh, your bathroom is a giant slip hazard. If I break my neck because you don't have a shower mat I'll be pissed,” Sam said, trying to crack a joke as he reached for Peter.

 

“Are you gonna sue me? Please don't sue me,” Peter replied, his eyes gleamed wickedly as he looked Sam over.

 

“Here. Until the slippery when wet sign gets in this'll have to do,” Peter went on, before hoisting Sam up into his arms with ease and rearranging him so that he was holding him bridal style. He grinned broadly, and if his hand was just a tiny bit closer to Sam's ass than was fully decent he figured the other man probably wouldn't mind so much.

 

Sam squeaked as Peter picked him up effortlessly. His hands warm and chest warmer. Sam leaned into him, taking the chance to enjoy this while he could.

 

“Fiend,” he finally managed to get out as Peter carried him into the bedroom, “kidnapping helpless maidens from showers and giving them clean clothes. How dare you!”

 

His shoulders shook as he bit back a laugh. Gods, he wanted this. Wanted this so, **so** much.

 

“And that's not even the most dastardly part of my plans,” Peter cackled in a cheesy villain voice. He carried Sam into the bedroom and leaned down as if to lay him on the bed. Unfortunately for Sam he paused when he was about an inch off the bed and started blowing raspberries against his neck.

 

Sam shrieked, giggling and pushing at Peter. But not really trying to get away.

 

“Mwahaha,” he cackled before he dissolved into real laughter. He placed Sam down on the bed and pressed a kiss to his neck. “I know, I know. I'm super evil.”

 

Sam sighed, laying back against Peter’s bed.

 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s kind of the problem, Pete,” he said, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.

 

Peter's smile died on his lips.

 

“Yeah,” Peter crawled onto the bed, close enough to feel the heat of Sam's body, but far enough away that he could move away if he wanted to without it being awkward.

 

“God this fucking sucks. Why'd you have to be so perfect Sam?” Peter asked looking at him mournfully. Sam laughed, looking over to Peter.

 

“Me? You’re so _flark’ng_ amazing. Hot, and smart, and dorky and funny. You help out at an orphanage, all the kids love you. And you’re good with your hands, and tongue and,” Sam cut himself off, getting distracted by his own memories of just how good and eager to please Peter had been. He sighed, “You’re so **good**. Except, you know,” he reached over to Peter’s chest, and pulled him closer. “When you’re not.”

 

Peter blushed and moved in closer to briefly press his blazing face against Sam’s shoulder.

 

“Shh. That’s so… I’m not… ugh,” he muttered, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. “I don’t know why you like me so much but I’m glad you do.”

 

Peter sighed loudly and reached down to link their fingers, “What are we gonna do?”

 

Sam groaned, giving Peter’s hand a squeeze.

 

“I don’t know! I want you! But, seriously, if any other supers see us not trying to tear our throats out what am I gonna do? I dunno if I could **really**  hurt you now,” Sam said, stressed and upset. Sam nuzzled into Peter, then said slowly, “You said… you said you couldn’t hurt me. But, but actually I think I’m getting immune. To your venom or whatever. I mean, I was only out for half a day last time.”

 

“Hmm. I guess I should have figured that might happen. You’re the only person I’ve ever had to sting more than once,” Peter admitted, half sheepish and half almost proud at Sam’s strength, “It makes sense you’d build an immunity.”

 

Peter nuzzled against Sam's hair, “But I won't sting you Sam. Never again. And I won’t hit you or do anything else to hurt you. Not unless you tell me to, you know in like a **sexy** way. But I’ll never ever hurt you badly again. I can’t do that to you.”

 

Sam nuzzled into Peter, thinking.

 

“But it didn’t **really** hurt **that** badly, last time. I mean, the first time yeah. It was _flark’ng_ awful. I was begging Iron Man to just put me down. Last time though, I was just, kinda… sleepy?” Sam said. He traced little patterns against Peter's chest absently. Then nodded, “Yeah, yeah it didn’t really hurt. I was just really dizzy until I passed out.”

 

Peter felt sick.

 

He'd hurt Sam so badly he'd begged for death. He'd been aiming to take him out altogether. There had been Avengers on his tail and plans from sick bastards he'd found on an Internet forum to stop, and he'd been aiming to do as much damage as possible to get the heroes off his tail. Worse, he'd gloated about the stab. He'd been **proud**.

 

“Fuck,” he choked out, horrified at himself. “Fuck I'm, I… I'm so sorry,” he swallowed, not trying to hide his emotions, he sobbed out, “I don't- fuck Sam how could I have- you didn't deserve that. Gods, fuck fuck fuck, I'm so sorry.”

 

Peter wasn't looking for forgiveness. He didn't **deserve** forgiveness. Hurting Sam wasn't something he'd ever forgive himself for. The scars that marked Sam as his were the same scars that made Peter a monster.

 

“Hey, hey! That’s not the first time I’ve been hurt bad. It probably won’t be the last! Peter, I’m not mad at you! It’s okay, really!” Sam said, pulling him close and kissing his forehead.

 

“This _schlag_ happens. Whatever, water under the ship. Ah, _flark_ , I was trying to make you feel better, not worse,” Sam could feel Peter shaking in his arms.

 

“Because it doesn’t really hurt anymore, fuck, I’m sorry Pete!” Sam said, shaking too, he buried his nose into Peter’s still damp, slightly less fluffy hair.

 

“Dammit if you start crying I’m gonna start, too!” Sam hiccuped, holding him tight against his chest now.

 

Peter laughed wetly, the sound almost hysterical, “You're completely fucking ridiculous. Why are **you** apologizing to **me** _?_ I'm the one who stabbed you! I fucking injected you with- I made you want to die Sam!” Peter didn't deserve Sam holding him, but he nuzzled into the embrace anyways. He wrapped his arms around Sam, squeezing him tight.

 

“Okay,” Peter took a deep breath. “Okay. So you got sleepy and dizzy. That's um, that's definitely far weaker of a reaction than it should be. I could make… But how could I test it…”

 

Sam sniffled and nuzzled into Peter.

 

“Lotsa folks make me want to die,” Sam muttered, then he took a shaky breath, “Sorry, not helpful.

 

“What are we testing?” Sam asked, trying to change the subject away from himself.

 

Peter felt a jolt at Sam's words. He'd kill **anyone** who made Sam feel that way without a second thought. He'd make them **suffer**  for it, too. But that wouldn't comfort Sam. Peter squeezed Sam close and kissed his head tenderly. 

 

“Have you ever heard of mithridatism?” He asked as he pressed another kiss to Sam's head, and then another. Sam settled into Peter’s kisses.

 

“No idea, I mean, maybe? I know a lot of stuff but not the English names for it,” Sam said. Peter grinned, feeling a rush of affection. It was nice, having Sam free to tell the truth.

 

“Okay, so basically it's ingesting small, non lethal doses of a poison to build up an immunity to it. But I can't do that to you if there's even the slightest possibility it could hurt you,” Peter said, “And even if I did… I wouldn't stab you in front of other heroes anyways. Stabbing leads to pain.”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’ve heard of that. Didn’t know it was called, uh, Mithroidism? But I’m telling you, Pete, the stabbing only hurts until my helmet numbs it. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. And aren’t I building immunity **from** the stabs? How would eating it help?” Sam honestly had no idea. He wasn’t a scientist. He was just a cop. Sort of.

 

“Ingesting it just- wait. Are… are you saying we **should** be fake enemies? Like you… We could be together?” Peter asked. He tried not to get his hopes up.

 

Sam held onto Peter.

 

“I wanna try,” Sam said, voice soft, “I… I need to talk to my family, the ones in space.”

 

Sam thought of the Guardians. They were still smugglers and sometimes criminals, depending on the system. And they still saved the galaxy! Maybe they could help him figure this out.

 

“I want to try too,” Peter managed to whisper, overjoyed. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many ways that this could blow up in their faces, but Peter didn't care. Not right now, “We probably have a lot to talk about.”

 

He paused to consider. “How long will you be gone?”

 

“Yeah, we do. I don’t have to leave now. Just… Soon,” Sam said. He thought on it.

 

“Finding them can take half a cycle sometimes, if they aren’t in Knowhere. And then I gotta actually… talk… to them,” Sam sighed, “assuming they haven’t managed to find some galaxy ending peril. They’re **really** good at falling into those.”

 

“You better be careful out there Sparky. You have to come home to me, and all in one piece too if you can,” Peter said, running his fingers through Sam's hair. “I'm gonna miss you.”

 

Sam held onto Peter, clinging tight as he could.

 

“You better still be here when I get back. I’m… I’m gonna miss you too,” Sam said.

 

“Okay. You come back and I promise I'll still be here. Deal?” Peter said, still petting Sam's head. “And anything you want to know I'll tell you. No more secrets.”

 

“No more secrets,” Sam agreed. He sighed, relaxing under Peter’s gentle petting.

 

Peter smiled and kissed Sam's cheek. His chest felt like it had been scrubbed with steel wool, and his eyes burned from all of the crying. Yet he felt… Content. Happy. He wanted to hold on to that.

 

“You're tired,” he said softly. “We can talk in the morning before you go.”

 

Then, almost before he even realized he was going to say it, “I love you.”

 

Sam froze at those three little words.

 

“Wh-what?”

 

Peter blanched. Why could he never keep his big stupid mouth shut? They'd just tentatively fixed things and now he'd gone and rocked the already leaky boat.

 

“I-I love you. I know it's still early and I probably should have waited but I just. It slipped? I thought I was losing you and now you're here in my arms and you don't have to say anything I just… That's just how I feel.”

 

“You..”

 

Sam tilted his head up to look at Peter. He couldn’t believe he’d done anything in the past week to warrant **this**.

 

“You love **me**?”

 

“Of course I do! You're so good and funny and cute and fucking hot as hell. And you're so **noble** ,” Peter started, his face pink. He was so nervous. He'd never done this before and now that he was going he couldn't seem to stop.

 

“And you take my breath away, God Sam every time I look at you, every time I'm even near you. You're in my mind all the time and you make me feel… I've never felt like this about anyone. I… I know it's probably too soon for you to feel the same but yeah. I love you Sam. You make it impossible not to.”

 

Sam stared back at Peter, dazed. It seemed unbelievable. Peter loving him. **Neurotoxin** loving **Nova** ? He hadn’t dared to hope **Peter** felt anything more than a fleeting crush for him. And he’d been so sure Neurotoxin wanted **to crush** him. For Peter to feel for him so strongly that he thought he was in love?

 

“S-say it again,” Sam said, breathless. It still sounded unreal. Peter loving him.

 

Peter felt his heartbeat in his throat. God Sam was going to be the death of him.

 

With a trembling hand he cupped Sam's cheek, looking him in the eyes. “I love you,” he said steadily. “I love you Sam.”

 

Sam blinked up at Peter, everything suddenly blurry.

 

“You love me,” he whispered, hushed as if speaking it would stop it from being so. He reached up to cling to Peter’s shaking hands with his own.

 

“Yeah,” Peter said, unable to look away. “Yeah you fucking nerd. I really really do.”

 

He pressed his forehead against Sam's. Sam laughed, giddy and happy and excited and terrified all at once. Tears falling unheaded.

 

“You love me,” he said, louder.

 

“I love you,” Peter laughed. He wiped Sam's tears away gently. “Don't cry. I know I'm awful but you don't gotta cry about it,” he joked as he tried to hold back his own tears.

 

“You’re not awful!” Sam said fiercely. Then sniffed and added, “I’m not crying, you’re crying.”

 

“Mmm okay, it's just raining on your face,” Peter laughed. Then he leaned in, giving in to temptation as he kissed Sam softly.

 

Sam kissed him back, softly, shaking. Nothing like the lusty, hungry kisses they’d shared before.  He kissed him almost as if he was afraid he’d break. Or it would all dissolve away in some villain's cruel illusion at any moment.

 

Peter wanted the kiss to last forever. Even when he pulled away, he stayed close, still holding Sam with their foreheads pressed together. “I’m sorry that everything went to shit Sam. I’m sorry this isn’t easier. That I’m not… better.”

 

“We can work on that. Figure something out. I, I mean maybe, I dunno, can you figure out how to burn only one room?” Sam said, he nuzzled noses with Peter. “Don't get me wrong, I'd be much happier with zero arson. But one thing at a time, right?”

 

“Hmm. I guess it’s gotta be possible,” Peter pondered, kissing Sam again. “I could probably… huh. Is it bad that I’ve never thought of that before?” He kissed Sam again and again, letting his lips linger each time. “This is one of the many many reasons i love you.”

 

Sam shivered, kissing Peter back sweetly.

 

“I… I hadn't really hoped I was more, more than a crush,” Sam said between sweet kisses, “I really, really like you, Peter. I think… I think I could love you. I know it's not what you wanna hear, but, no more lies.”

 

Sam looked up at Peter, earnest and worried.

 

Peter smiled. That Sam felt any affection for him at all was more than enough. But to hear that he might be falling in love…

 

“That's fine Sam. Better than fine! I was scared you'd find out who I am and make a dash for it, or worse. This is more than I could ever hope for. You're amazing.” He nuzzled his head against Sam's, “Thank you.”

 

Sam sighed, tension leaving him with Peter’s words and gentle nuzzling.

 

“You’re welcome?” he replied, not quite sure that was the right thing to say.

 

Peter giggled. Sam was too adorable. “Go to sleep. If we have time before you jet off in the morning we can talk this out. If not then… Well you'll come back and we can talk then. I'm sure you'll have thought of a thousand questions out there.” He ran his fingers through Sam's hair again, scratching lightly.

 

“Mmm, sleep sounds good,” Sam agreed. He felt torn and drained, completely exhausted. Too tired even to eat. Peter’s gentle petting was relaxing him, soothing him. His eyes drifted closed.

 

Snuggling in Peter felt his eyes drooping too. There were a million things he needed to tell Sam, a million issues they had to work through. But those could wait. Now, with Sam in his arms, Peter decided to give in to his exhaustion and drift off to sleep.


	15. Final Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm tryna put you in the worst mood, ah_   
>  _P1 cleaner than your church shoes, ah_   
>  _Milli point two just to hurt you, ah_   
>  _All red Lamb’ just to tease you, ah_   
>  _None of these toys on lease too, ah_   
>  _Made your whole year in a week too, yah_   
>  _Main bitch out your league too, ah_   
>  _Side bitch out of your league too, ah_
> 
>  
> 
> _House so empty, need a centerpiece_  
>  _Twenty racks a table cut from ebony_  
>  _Cut that ivory into skinny pieces_  
>  _Then she clean it with her face man I love my baby_  
>  _You talking money, need a hearing aid_  
>  _You talking 'bout me, I don't see a shade_  
>  _Switch up my style, I take any lane_  
>  _I switch up my cup, I kill any pain_
> 
>  
> 
> _Look what you've done_  
>  _I’m a motherfuckin' starboy_  
>  _Look what you've done_  
>  _I'm a motherfuckin' starboy_  
>  \- Starboy (feat. Daft Punk), The Weeknd

Sam woke up surrounded by Peter. His scent, his warmth, his body clinging tightly to his own in his sleep. He blinked awake, looking around in confusion before the tumultuous events of yesterday came crashing through his memories. 

 

This was Peter’s apartment, Peter’s bed. And Peter… Sweet, nerdy, gentle Peter was  **really** anything but. He was a thieving, murderous arsonist. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he did his crimes as the notorious supervillain Neurotoxin. Nova’s own archnemesis. 

 

Sam stared up at the ceiling. He was mildly surprised that it wasn’t covered in dorky posters like Peter’s walls. But then he remembered how often Neurotoxin… really Peter… crawled around on the ceiling. 

 

Peter was snoring softly, head resting on his chest. The drool puddle was admittedly gross, but, well, it was also kind of adorable. Adorable.  **Neurotoxin** . Sam just could not wrap his head around how  **innocent** Peter looked. 

 

As if to prove Sam's point Peter snuffled, nuzzling his face against Sam's chest in his sleep. 

 

Sam shook his head as Peter’s cheek encountering the puddle of drool was enough to make him grumble and wake, scrunching up his face at the feeling. It took Peter a few seconds to register the warm weight in bed with him. He tensed, going stiff before he realized he was laying on a very wet  **Sam.**

 

Sam was  **still here** . In his apartment, where he never had visitors. 

 

Sam hadn't flown off in the middle of the night, or used the opportunity to turn him in, or put shaving cream in his hand and tickled his face. Peter blinked sleepily, smiling softly up at Sam.

“You're shirt’s wet,” he informed Sam helpfully, squeezing him tighter. Gods he was so so beyond lucky that Sam was still  **here.** Still  **with** him, even if it was just for now. 

 

Sam grabbed the sheet and wiped off his chest.

 

“Never got around to shirts,” Sam said, keeping his other arm firm against Peter’s back. Guiltily relishing Peter’s warmth and closeness.

 

“Hmm guess your  **you** was wet then,” Peter hummed in reply, delighted to find that he was in fact pressed skin to skin against Sam. “You won't find me complaining though,” he added as he pressed a pleased kiss to Sam's collarbone. 

 

Sam nuzzled against Peter’s fluffy hair, taking in a deep breath. It was comforting, being surrounded by Peter. It shouldn’t be, but it was. He sighed. He really, really did not want to get up yet. His stomach growled loudly.

 

“Heh, oops, guess it’s time for breakfast?” Sam said, blushing lightly at his body’s traitorous noises.  

 

“Mhm. Breakfast sounds nice. And I've got an extra toothbrush if you want it,” Peter agreed. He pressed his face against Sam's neck, keeping his arms wrapped around him despite his words.

 

“Mmmm yeah, I’ll use it,” Sam said. Though he nuzzled more comfortably against Peter instead of getting up.

 

“Do we haaaaave to get up?” Peter muttered after a moment of lazy snuggling. He was so comfortable. So  **happy** . 

 

**Nothing** like this had  **ever** happened to him before, “Can't we just have some of those muffins you made in bed? I took like four Tupperware containers the other night.” 

 

“Mmm, yeah I guess that’ll do for now. I’m gonna need something more filling before I head out later though,” Sam agreed. It was so nice, laying here with Peter. It shouldn’t be, really. But it was. 

 

“I wouldn't let you go to space without a proper meal! M’just warm and comfy right now,” Peter wiggled victoriously and thwipped over a nearby container he'd been keeping in his room just in case he wanted a midnight snack. “Blueberry?” 

 

“You’re something else,” Sam said, shaking his head and reaching for a muffin. He ate it fast, chewing thoughtfully on the last bite, “Hmmm, these aren’t blueberries…”

 

He took another muffin and stared at it, “Yeah, sorry I musta been kinda out of it, these are something like space blueberries though. Musta been too tired to go find a place that had blueberries at ass o’clock.” 

 

Sam shrugged and ate that one too.

 

“That totally makes sense,” Peter nodded, taking his own muffin, “I  **thought** they tasted better than plain old blueberries.”

 

He glanced over at Sam, wondering what the hell they were going to do. Sitting in bed talking about space berries and snuggling felt so good. So  **right.**

 

“MmmHmm,” Sam agreed, still chewing his second muffin. He swallowed and stretched, “Though blueberries really are good, too. You just have to get fresh or frozen, the mix that has blueberries in it are all gross lies.”

 

But he couldn’t afford to let himself be fooled. Peter was all too familiar with the hand life had dealt him. And this  **contentment** , this  **happiness** , wasn’t it. Even when he’d  **tried** to be good, to protect the other foster kids, he’d failed. He wouldn’t be fooled again, the price was too high.  Things with Sam were… complicated. Soon, he’d be gone to space. Who knew  **when** he’d be back. Or if… Peter didn’t want to think about that now. Later, after Sam left, would be plenty of time for that unpleasant **if** . 

 

Right now, Peter’s entire future hinged on what Sam’s space, probably alien, family thought about spiders. Given how Sam had reacted at the museum to thinking there was an exhibit on space spiders… It was frightening to say the least.  

 

“You always leave those on?” Sam asked, nodding at Peter’s wrists. 

 

Peter seemed tense, nervous. Sam couldn’t blame him, this  **was** weird. Maybe it didn’t feel as comfortable for him as it did for Sam? 

 

Sam’d been too stressed and tired last night to comment on the webshooters. Of course Peter  **hadn’t** been leaving them on, pretending to be normal as he’d been. Sam tried to reason it was that and not because Peter no longer trusted him.

 

Peter tilted his head, before noticing that Sam's eyes were fixed on his wrists. “Oh, yeah. Most of the time. I used to take them off but I kept forgetting, and then I figured ‘hey, never know when I'm gonna need em do I?’ might as well keep them on.” 

 

Sam grunted an acknowledgement at that. There were plenty of times he wished he could keep his helmet on, here on Earth. But keeping his family safe from… well before it had been Thanos, but now he wondered. Would he have to protect them from his own team? Should he talk to Johnny first?

 

Peter nuzzled against Sam. “Do they bother you? I can take them off if you want.” 

 

“No, no it’s cool,” Sam said, he reached hesitantly out to Peter’s arm. Peter offered it to him without hesitation. 

 

Peter hadn't even thought before using his web shooters to snag the muffins. Maybe Sam didn't like the reminder of who he was in bed with. 

 

Sam felt the unease inside him loosen, Peter still trusted him. He traced his fingers lightly against the skin of Peter’s forearm, stopping as he reached the metal of the webshooter. Hesitantly, he pressed his fingers against Peter’s exposed wrist. Where, under his skin, his stinger must be. 

 

Sam couldn’t feel it, though he was honestly not trying to. He was just trying to get it settled more firmly in his mind that Peter, who looked so innocent and acted so obedient with him, was really anything but.

 

Peter barely took a breath as Sam inspected his wrist. The light touches made him shiver, but he was more concerned with trying to read Sam's expression. It was focused, but the emotions there were… confusing.

 

What was he feeling? Was he horrified, revolted? Did he  **regret** staying here with him last night?  Was he contemplating ripping out his stingers for good? Or crushing his shooters to leave him weakened? Or was it something else entirely? 

 

“Do you want to see?” Peter asked, voice soft. Unable to keep quiet even now. Trying to hide his swirling anxiety with action.  Sam looked to him, surprised. Why would Peter be so nervous?

 

**Peter** hadn’t had those stingers punch through  **his** ribs like they were so much wet cardboard. Sam felt his scar ache at the memory of the near fatal injury. In a fight there wasn’t time for fear, not really. A quick flash of adrenaline, a rush of emotion.  If you stopped to  **be afraid** you wouldn’t  **survive** . You had to shove it back and keep going until you were knocked out or you won.

 

Thinking about seeing those stingers now made his heart race. And not in the fun kind of way.

 

“Yeah,” Sam said, dropping his eyes back down to Peter’s wrist. There wasn’t any opening or slit. It looked totally normal. Well, normal under the webshooter.

 

If he couldn’t manage his fear of Neurotoxin’s, no  **Peter’s** stingers, then what hope had they of any kind of real relationship? He’d make an ass of himself even more than he already had, hurt Peter even worse later on. 

 

Peter nodded.  He rolled onto his back and held his arms out,   making sure  they were well back from Sam's body. He watched Sam's face closely, watched him stare as Peter twisted his wrist, the spikes breaking his skin.  Saw his flinch as they were deployed, his expression as he tried to fight down his fear.

 

Peter felt his heart break, seeing Sam trying so hard to not be afraid of him. He’d done this to Sam. He’d hurt him so much that  he was terrified just  **seeing** his stingers. “It's just me Sam. I won't hurt you. I promise. I'll never hurt you again.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah I  **know** ,” Sam growled, frustrated. He believed him, stupid enough as it was. 

 

Sam inched closer to Peter, glaring up at the bone jutting from his wrists. He nuzzled into Peter’s chest and wrapped his legs around him. After a shaky breath he looked back up, where Peter still had his arms up, stingers out.

 

“I know,” Sam said again, softer. The fear was still there, but manageable now.

 

“I'm sorry,” Peter whispered. He kept his hands up, stingers far from Sam as he turned his face to press a kiss against Sam's head. He’d regret stinging Sam until the day he died.

 

Sam took a deep breath and ran his hands along Peter's arm, coming to rest on top of his wrist.

 

“I told you, it's void behind us,” Sam said, voice firmer now. 

 

He cautiously teased his fingers along Peter’s wrist, pressing his skin against the spike. There wasn’t any blood.  Peter couldn't stop himself from visibly shivering at the touch to his overly sensitive skin. He wasn't sure he  **could** leave it behind them. But he could try. For Sam. 

 

“You can touch them. It's okay, it won't hurt you,” Peter said. Sam seemed a little calmer now.

 

Sam wrapped his hand around the base of the stinger and pulled Peter's arm down for a closer look. He still felt a thrill of fear at the sight, but touching it  **didn't** hurt. It was something like bone. There was no venom dripping from the tip, and Sam couldn’t see where it would come out.

 

“Kinda freaky right?” Peter laughed softly. 

 

Sam nodded, still staring intently.

 

“You should have seen my face the first time these suckers popped out,” Peter continued dryly. “Not a fun day. I was shaking my wrists out for three hours afterwards, I was so freaked out. There may have been some super manly screaming involved.” 

 

“Fuck I don’t blame you. That’s a hell of a surprise,” Sam said, turning his head to nuzzle against Peter’s chest. He pressed a kiss to his skin and reached over to tap Peter’s other arm, trying to let him know he didn’t need to keep it raised up.  Peter nodded with a wry smile and lowered it, pulling the spike back in and resting it against his chest. Sam turned his attention back to Peter’s wrist in his grip. 

 

Sam squeezed and poked at the bone, the thrill of fear having leveled out. Now he was curious.

 

“Can you feel that?” he wondered.

 

“Mmm not really? I mean I can feel it in my wrist, kinda like how it feels when you touch someone’s fingernail I guess? I can feel the vibration of you touching it, but the stinger itself doesn’t have any nerves,” Peter answered.

 

Sam nodded at that. He turned his attention back to Peter and curled into him. He hadn’t been as afraid of those wicked spikes as he’d feared. The sight of them definitely wasn’t a fond one, but he could manage. He inhaled, breathing in Peter’s scent. More awake now, he noticed the scent of smoke. Soft now, but still there. Was that from him or Peter?

 

“We still smell like smoke,” Sam said, more of an observation than out of any desire to get up and shower yet again. He had a feeling showering now would definitely be far more distracting than last night. He really should head out.

 

“Oh, uh, that’s probably my sheets. I uh, usually just pass out on top of them,” Peter said. Sam ran his hand down his chest to settle his fidgeting.

 

“Yeah, same. You think I’d get  **some** kinda break, being an Avenger and all, but nooooo, gotta earn my own money if i don’t wanna be Stark’s pet Nova,” Sam said, complaining.

 

Peter tilted his head. “Huh. They aren’t the amazing, generous, all inclusive super team they claim to be?” Peter asked, not at all surprised at the news that he’d already deduced ages ago.

 

“Oh, uh, you know just, they still treat me like a kid and act like I don’t know what I’m doing. Like I don’t deal with shit out there they can’t even imagine! AND I’m rebuilding the Nova Empire. I mean it might not be out of this quadrant yet, but you know, it’s something!” Sam glanced around the room, “No way, is that  **you** ?”

 

“Huh?” Peter glanced over at where Sam was looking. “Oh, yeah, um, that’s me.” Peter felt his throat tighten. The photo was the only tangible thing he had left to remind him of better times and the good people that were out there. Maybe if his family hadn’t been murdered in such a brutal home invasion he’d have turned out differently. Or maybe he was just broken, always destined to be like this. His family had been kind and good, though he’d been been too young to remember his parents when they had died. He’d been raised by his aunt and uncle, treated like their own son. But walking in on their ruined corpses… the blood and mess of their things strewn everywhere was something no amount of therapy had helped him forget. Peter didn’t get anything else out and Sam didn’t press him further. It was one of the many reasons Peter loved him.

 

“You were stinkin’ adorable,” Sam said fondly.

 

“What do you mean were!?” Peter ask, feigning outrage. If his voice as a bit rough Sam either didn’t notice or let it pass. Sam turned a wicked grin his way as he pushed up to lean over Peter.

 

“I definitely wouldn’t call you  **adorable** now,” he purred. Peter blushed and turned his head away.

 

“So we’re uh… I mean…” Peter floundered. He’d never really had a  **real** relationship before. His fumblings with Flash hardly counted, friends though they still were. And a relationship, a real one with everything that entailed, honesty and trust. With, of all people on Earth, of all the heroes, he’d managed to fall head over heels for his own personal thorn in his side, Nova. It was terrifying to think of the possibilities a future dating Sam would hold.

 

Already Nova had turned out to be completely different from what he’d imagined. He wasn’t a sanctimonious, holier than thou ass like the other Avengers. He was earnest and kind, fun and snarky, and hot. And amazingly not afraid of doing what was needed to keep people, children, safe. 

 

That had been the biggest surprise of all. He’d never thought he’d see an Avenger straight up execute someone, like,  **ever** . Oh,  **sure** , they would have ‘unavoidable’ casualties when fighting HYDRA, too bad so sad, put out fake weepy propaganda on how tragic it all was, boo hoo. But those were, allegedly, all in the heat of battle for their lives. And according to Sam himself, they didn’t even consider non-humans on the same level. Sam hadn’t said, but Peter had no trouble imagining mutants fell among the ‘non-humans’ as far as killing went. Peter felt the old bitterness rise up in him at that. He wasn’t, technically, a mutant, but mutant haters didn’t give a shit about technicalities. He wasn’t entirely human and that was enough to warrant his imprisonment, if not his death. Mobs of anti-mutant humans hardly stopped to check if the super powered people they were lynching were mutants, inhumans, or mutates.

 

“Hey, like I said, whatever we are, we  **are** ,” Sam said, his soft voice interrupting Peter’s dark thoughts. “I mean, as long as you want—” 

 

Peter pulled Sam down into a desperate hug, too afraid to kiss him. He nuzzled into his neck, overwhelmed.

 

“Okay, okay, okay, you want, you want, you want!” Sam laughed warmly, holding onto Peter tightly. 

 

“But I thought, your family,” Peter mumbled against Sam’s skin. Too scared to finish voicing the thought. Peter felt Sam tilt his head in confusion.

 

“Mom and Kae?” 

 

“Um, no, uh, space family,” Peter clarified, feeling more and more stupid as the ‘conversation’ progressed.

 

“Oh, The Guardians? What about ‘em?”

 

“Er, you said you had to see them before we could uh date,” Peter said, his face blazing and eyes downcast.

 

“Dude, I’m not going to them for  **permission** I’m going to them for  **advice** .”

 

“Oh,” Peter said quietly, suddenly feeling stupid and small. Maybe he should have realized that grown adults don't have to ask their pseudo parents for permission to date, but it's not like he had a lot of experience in having parents around.

 

“Yeah, the Avengers don’t really like The Guardians, ‘cause like I said the other day, they’re former ‘less than savory’ types. And Xixu Rocket is a, uh, kind of alien that looks like an Earth racoon. That loves explosions and guns. Sooo….” 

 

Peter lifted his head at that, eyes wide. “Gun racoon?!” He said, only a little bit excited. “Wait, Xichew?” 

 

“Oh, like sensei I guess. Don't call him a raccoon to his face. He's touchy about it. But he’s really smart! Gamora too! Quill is pretty good at getting out of tight spots! And Groot has great advice, like all the time! And Drax always has my back. They’ll help me figure out how to keep the Avengers off our asses until we can figure out, uh, you know, the not burning down entire buildings thing,” 

Peter settled back against Sam with a sigh. He'd have to get on that, because there was no way he was stopping with  _ all _ the burning. 

 

_ What _ ? A little bit of burning people alive never hurt anyone! 

 

“Okay, I'll work on that while you're gone spaceboy,” he said softly. “I guess we should get up huh?”

 

“Ugh, yeah, I guess we should. Sooner we’re up the sooner I can get back,” Sam groaned. Time to get up and get dressed. At least he already had his go bag with him.

 

* * *

 

 

“I'll walk you out,” Peter said, grinning as he snagged the space-hero around the waist and swung them out into the not-so-bright New York sunshine. 

 

Sam bit back a laugh at the swooping sensation of Neurotoxin’s webswinging. Probably not a good idea to call attention to themselves. They landed on a nearby roof, in the shadow of a water tower.  Peter swallowed his fear, swallowed the pleas for Sam to stay that so desperately wanted to escape his mouth. That wouldn’t do him any good.

 

Instead, he pressed a sweet kiss to Sam’s mouth, pouring the depth of his feeling into his farewell. 

 

“I love you. You better come back firefly. I’ll be waiting,” he said, pulling back with a herculean amount of effort.

 

“Don’t worry, Pete, nothing out there is half as dangerous as you,” Sam laughed. He gave Peter a quick kiss on top of his head and darted off. “I’ll be gone two weeks, tops! Stay safe, firebug!”

 

“Spiders are arachnids!” Peter called after him, shaking his head. Ugh, his boyfriend was so  **annoying** _ ,  _ he thought fondly. 

 

Boyfriend.

 

Neurotoxin smiled. This was going to be a whole new kind of fun.

 

He couldn’t wait until Sam got back.

 

_ -fin- _

 


End file.
